To Judge the Lost
by Alabaster Ink
Summary: “You must also keep in mind, Albus,” Lucy spoke, solemnly. “That sometimes even the dark side must have good luck." When, at face value, everything seems normal, you should know something is very very wrong. Some pairings. No slash or incest.
1. Prologue: Beginnings without Ends

Hey All! Yeah, I realize I should be working on my other stories, but I just keep getting new ideas each day and I really can't stop them, so here's another one. Since Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter are my two favorites books, I decided to put them together in a hopefully realistic way. Also, there are some slight crossover material from The Dark is Rising Series. I haven't actually read the series myself, but some of it I thought would work for this story.

I would also like to give a shout out to lembas7 who gave me inspiration for my fic and beta-ed it for me. Thank you! I have her permission to use some of her ideas and so I'm crediting her here for the ideas that may seem similar or exactly the same to the ones in her fantastic universe. If you haven't read her Elijah's Cup Universe stories then GO READ THEM NOW! They are one of the best series out there. Also, I would like to give another shout out to electrum, of whom I will be borrowing some of the manners of speech and/or events that happened in Narnia from electrum. Yes, her stories have permeated Narnia fandom and are we ever glad they did! READ THEM!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot and characters/ideas/spells/anything else you can't find on the Internet. Everything else belongs to C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, and Susan Cooper (and some to lembas7 and electrum, wonderful people that they are).

ENJOY!

* * *

**To Judge the Lost**

**Prologue: Beginnings without Ends**

Life never turns out exactly how you plan. It can take twists and turns, ups and downs, flips and flops, every second of everyday. Every choice that is made, every word that is spoken, changes a person's plan. There is no absolute when every moment means Change. Plans never equate for people, for ideas, for bad tidings or good; they are bones without skin, drawings without life, thoughts without purpose… beginnings without ends.

…Beginnings without Ends. Now, that is something which very few can ever truly understand. For that which Begins surely must End, right? Many may claim to understand when they reference the Circle of Life, but in truth, it is only a lie to make themselves feel more secure in their roles on Earth. For there is no Circle of Life when Death is an End which a circle does not have. How then, can a Beginning not have an End?

Simple. An equation of good tidings and bad, of people and ideas,…of Old Magics and New Magics, of Live Worlds and Dead Worlds.

To those that live outside of Time, outside of Life, there is no End. Age will not touch Them, Death will not greet Them, Life will not acknowledge Them. They live but are not alive, watch but do not side. Where once there was Black and White, They must now see only Grey; to live the life of an Immortal in a world of mortality is the price They must pay.

As to whether an Immortal can become Mortal – that has yet to be seen.

* * *

He should never have left London.

Oh yes, when Peter Pevensie stepped off the train at Coombe Halt that day he knew something was off. By sure, there wasn't anything noticeably different about the old train station (if the platform could be termed as such), but there was something in the air, something with which Peter had become accustomed to over the years.

Magic. Old Magic.

Now, the first thought that came to Peter's mind was, in all tired truth, 'What has Edmund done now?' Luckily for his little brother, the seemingly twenty-eight year old man's mind caught up with his common sense and dismissed the notion. Even on a bad day, his younger brother wasn't so stupid as to try and mess around with the Old Magics. That would just be foolish, foolish to the point that Peter didn't even think the lowest person could ever sink to. So what, then?

Mentally cursing himself for not charging his mobile, Peter began the long walk from the platform to the mansion, fleetingly thinking it was high time he bought a car. The thought passed quickly though, and as the man moved faster down the dirt road, he felt the Magics getting stronger, pulling him forward with a force not unlike that of a call to Narnia.

He moved faster to match the growing Magics. They increased; he went to meet Them.

Almost running now, Peter let his mind wander to such a fantasy; feeling the Narnian winds blow, smelling the sweet smell of ripe dewberries, hearing the sound of feet on marble floors. It was almost as if he could reach out and touch the people moving in the ivory castle halls; talk to them even. He moved his hand closer, feeling the Magics weave around him, only to snap out of his daydream when he felt the Old Magics mix with New Magics.

Peter lowered his hand.

He paid no mind to the throbbing in his chest as the Magics changed and he neared the mansion. The man was used to it by now. After all, such a call Home was impossible.

Narnia had been gone for over forty-six years.

* * *

To say that Edmund Pevensie was having a bad day would be an understatement. To say that his day was only getting worse would just barely scrape the bottom of the barrel. In fact, even with his vast knowledge and the knowledge of Susan's old giant dictionary, the younger Pevensie brother still couldn't find an adjective that could accurately describe his day. So…he settled for a long string of words starting with abominable and ending with wretched. Splashing in words such as atrocious, horrendous, and loathsome, while avoiding the word deplorable, Edmund found that by the end of his mental rant he was feeling much better.

Of course, the moment an old man appeared in his fireplace Edmund began a new mental list using the synonyms of the words from the first one. Just his luck for the old geezer to pop in _right now_, at a moment when he certainly wasn't in any mood to entertain guests. What he wouldn't give for a nice, dusty old book to read and a cup of hot tea. Really, was that too much to ask?

"Edmund, my boy, aren't you going to come over and greet an old man?" Oh yes, a nice dusty book and a cup of hot tea. _Please_. Where were his siblings when he needed them?

But Edmund just turned to the wrinkled man, not letting his displeasure show, and pasted a forced smile on his face. "Good evening, Albus. What brings you here?"

Albus' eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses; he could see a fake smile a mile away.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood and decided to visit." He moved away from the fireplace and cleaned up the dirt from the floo with a wave of his hand. "I heard there was a wonderful little candy shop down the road and I wondered if maybe I could get some more lemon drops? Then of course, I got to thinking of how long it's been since we had talked and I decided to come for tea. I do hope you don't mind." Was that a glint in the old man's eyes? Edmund looked closer. Yes! Yes it was.

"But of course, Albus. We're always happy to have you." _But only when you give us warning first, _ Edmund thought dismally. So much for his book. Oh well, at least he'd get the tea.

Getting up from where he had been sitting at his desk, the dark-haired, seemingly twenty-five year old walked over to the study door and motioned for the man to follow. As both stepped out into the corridor, Edmund locked the door behind him as he usually did and began to walk towards the sunnier end of the hall.

"Susan and Lucy should be downstairs, and Peter should be home from his trip to London any moment now." The man said from what he could remember from that morning when his older sister woke him up. "The girls might have gone into town for some groceries, but they ought to be back by now."

"That's fine, Edmund." Albus said jovially, as he admired the house's architecture. "So, what have you been up to, my boy?"

_Besides wondering why you're really here?_ Edmund thought, but responded with, "Nothing much. We just returned actually. Peter was looking for a job in London, but I'm not sure how that turned out." It was a nonchalant reply, but Edmund knew that it was always what wasn't said that was important.

"I see." The younger man wasn't sure whether or not that was true, but with Albus Dumbledore nothing was ever truly certain. "Does he need the job?"

_Okay,_ Edmund almost allowed the shock to show on his face._ That was more forward than I thought it would be_. He didn't know whether or not the old wizard was losing his touch or if he was purposefully leaving hints.

"No, but we like to keep busy." Of course he didn't let his inner thoughts cross into his words. Still, he had the smallest inkling that Albus knew anyway. "Susan even said she was thinking of opening up her own practice so as to keep from boredom."

Okay, so she had really said that she was thinking of funding _a_ practice, but Edmund had learned that sometimes an omittance worked just as well as the complete truth…most of the time…sometimes. Besides, it would be completely impossible for them to even think of owning something that they would have to close within three or four years. A fact Albus knew entirely too well.

"Ah," That could mean anything, but the not-really twenty-five year old was pretty sure he had guessed at the correct meaning. That being an "ah" of 'I-have-a-proposition-for-you-but-I'm-not-entirely-sure-what-your-reaction-will-be-so-I'll-just-continue-on-as-if-nothing-is-amiss.'

Yeah. Like that was going to work.

Somewhere in the house—most probably the foyer—a door opened and heavy footsteps could be heard. Two high-pitched cries rang out as well, and even from where he was, Edmund was pretty sure the squeals would be echoing in his ears for a while. Seeing as he and his guest were still on the second floor in the west wing of the large house, the younger man was pretty sure that said something about his sisters. Whether it was flattering or not had yet to be determined.

"Peter's home," he said, unnecessarily. Oh well, anything to end the awkward silence would be welcome.

"I heard." If only his students could see him now: Albus Dumbledore grimacing while trying to get the high-pitched squeals out of his ringing ears. Well, at least Edmund was smirking. That was good…occasionally.

"Don't worry, you get used to it." The younger man said good-naturedly.

"You would think I would have gotten used to it already after all these years." Albus smiled, letting his eyes twinkle merrily. He had missed talking to the Pevensies, they made him feel young again.

"I've spent my entire lives with them and I've only now just gotten used to it." He added the plural on 'lives' as a slight reminder to Albus of to whom he was actually talking to. "Don't think that grey hair, more wrinkles, and fewer visits are going to make you any more immune than I." Both men chuckled. It was true after all.

They walked in companionable silence as they reached a flight of stairs leading to the first floor drawing room. In fact, the silence was so much more pleasant that Edmund actually began to forget his bad mood from earlier, and as they entered the salon he felt much lighter. Of course, that which goes up, must surely come down. Curse Lucy and her bad timing.

"Edmund!" He heard her clearly before she even entered the room. This meant, unfortunately, that she was just that much louder when she burst through the doors, skirt flying, hair messy, and smile bright. "Edmund! Peter's home and-" But she cut herself off as she noticed the old wizard in the gaudy purple robe.

"Albus!" She leapt at the old man and gave him a hug, talking a mile a minute so that her brother could only catch every other five words. He was sure Albus understood it all though. "What are you doing here? Oh, you must come and say hello to Peter and Susan! They will be so happy to see you, it's been so many years." With that, she grabbed the old man's hand and began to pull him excitedly out of the room, still talking, and into the hall leading to the kitchen.

"Lucy!" She paid no heed, of course, to Edmund's call. Sighing, her older brother followed at a more sedate pace, keeping a measured distance between himself and the other two.

As they neared the kitchen two other voices could be heard, one low and one soft, both rising in volume to welcome the old man when he entered. Susan and Lucy had apparently been making dinner when Peter arrived and Edmund belatedly wondered what had happened to lunch. He even said so to Susan as he took a seat at the plain wooden table, consequently earning himself a slight glare from his 'gentle' sister.

"You yelled you weren't hungry and slammed the door in my face, remember?" Actually, Edmund didn't remember such an event, but he hadn't survived this long without learning when to surrender.

"You did what, Ed?" Peter sat down next to him after welcoming Albus with a firm handshake, and gave him the look of reprimanding amusement. That is, he was trying to be stern, but was failing miserably.

"…I don't recall." His older sister sent him a look of disbelief and Albus' eyes twinkled behind the glasses. Peter, it seemed, didn't know whether or not to laugh or maintain his reprimanding look. Luckily for Edmund, his little sister saved him by returning with tea.

"Oh Susan, don't be so hard on him. Edmund's had a long day." Bless Lucy and her good timing.

"But he hasn't even left his study since this morning!" Okay, so Susan had a point, but that didn't mean anything for such a person as prone to danger as Edmund.

"Yes, but you know how Ed is, Su. He's probably had a million of little things happen to him since then."

"That doesn't mean he can be rude, Lucy!" Wow, Su was really worked up about this, if the color of her face was any indication.

"Um, girls?" That was Peter, who was still trying to get his amusement under control, while dividing his attention between his sisters and their guest. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time?"

Susan looked a bit put out, but she relented. "Oh alright, but don't think you're out of trouble Edmund Randall Pevensie. We're going to continue this later." Said man didn't really care. He knew that by the end of this day, his siblings would have more to think about than his bad temper. Edmund just wished he could figure out what it was.

"Now Albus, would you like something to eat?" Susan turned to the man with a smile, and Edmund couldn't help but wonder at her fast transformation.

"Yes, thank you, Susan, that would be lovely." He gave her that funny little smile which Susan returned, and went to pour him a bowl of the stew she had apparently been preparing.

"Hey, don't we get anything?" Edmund called out to her, only to be rewarded with a spoon to the head. "Oi! Watch where you throw things, Su!" He could have sworn he heard a chuckle somewhere.

Fortunately, Susan returned with five bowls of the stew, although Edmund could have sworn Peter had more than he did by over half a bowl. Of course, when he said as much, his brother promised to eat Edmund's share. He stopped complaining.

"So, Albus," Peter began after a few minutes of content (for most) eating. "What are you here for?" The look on the old wizard's face was enough for the four Pevensies to understand that the man had hoped they hadn't caught on. "Oh, come now, Professor, surely you didn't think you had us fooled?"

The wizard chuckled. "No, but you can't blame an old man for trying."

"Yes, well you'll forgive us if we don't exactly buy the fact that you arrive unannounced, by floo I should add, to have dinner with four people you haven't had any real contact with in over twenty years." It was clear to all that Peter wanted an answer.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say twenty years, Peter." While the man's eyes twinkled, there was a definite age to them that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"A few written messages and warnings hardly equate to contact." Edmund spoke up, suddenly feeling very anxious. What had happened put such an old look in the man's eyes? "Still, that doesn't answer why you are here."

Albus sighed, looking even older. "I'm sure by now you know about what happened last year during the Triwizard Tournament." He paused and the Pevensies nodded. Of course they knew. "I fear what will happen this year, now that the ministry is starting to act at the school."

"You're worried about Mr. Potter." It was Lucy who spoke, finishing up a bite of her stew.

"Among others." He looked down at his meal and the Pevensies got the distinct impression that he was trying to see the future in the tomato-like mixture.

"While that's understandable, Albus, I still don't see how we can help." Susan was looking at the sad old wizard with a soft, calculating eye. Unfortunately, as usual, she had a point.

"I was hoping," he paused as if to gather nerve, something the Pevensies never thought they would ever see him do. "I was hoping that you might consider coming to Hogwarts for the year, just to keep an eye on everything." It was the most flustered the four had ever seen the professor before and, truthfully, it unsettled them.

"Albus…" Peter trailed off and looked uncertainly at his siblings. They returned the looks and Lucy gave a weak shrug. Moral dilemma, definitely. "Albus you know we can't-" But he cut himself off, not quite sure what to say.

"You've all been helping secretly for years, just, _please_." It was the first time the Pevensies ever heard him beg and it struck a chord in them that had them both sad and angry at the same time. He knew that they weren't supposed to interfere directly.

A few moments of tense silence passed as the four siblings tried to tame their raging emotions. As the first to do so, Peter sighed long and heavy, "We will think about it."

The relief was evident on the old man's face as he smiled at them and the twinkle that had been lost sometime during the conversation returned to his eyes.

"But we make no promises." The blond gave him a stern look and Albus nodded in consent.

They finished dinner in silence.

* * *

"No."

"Su-"

"I said no, Peter. You know we can't."

"But Susan-"

"Peter." His younger sister looked at him in such a way that it reminded him of their mum. Though dead for the past forty-six years, her glare was still firm in his mind. "We. Can't."

"Susan, listen-"

"No, Peter. We all made a vow years ago not to get involved. Why now do you suddenly feel like breaking it?" If not for the harshly questioning stare, Peter wouldn't have thought she was very intimidating. As it was, her face made the eldest sibling pause slightly before trying to answer.

"Because they need help." There, it was as simple as that. Too bad for him, Susan didn't really see it that way.

"Peter, if we do this, then we'll be picking a side. We're not allowed to do that." She ended with a huff and sat down on the worn sofa in Professor Kirke's old study.

Dinner had ended two hours before and the Pevensies had seen Dumbledore off soon after, promising to alert him when they reached a decision. Retreating to the present room to discuss their options, the siblings had yet to reach such a consensus. In fact, as it currently stood, they were getting nowhere.

"Su, if we don't help them then who knows what will happen!" Peter exclaimed, too tired of this discussion to really think his words through; hence, the argument with Susan.

"Who knows what will happen if we do!" The elder of the girls rasped out from her seated position. "How do we know we won't make the situation worse? I mean we haven't had any real contact with the main wizarding world in over thirty years. Just because we have all these abilities doesn't mean we're omniscient!"

"Okay, I think you both need to calm down." Edmund's voice cut through the tired argument, and both of his elder siblings turned to look at him. "Remember, the war hasn't even started yet."

"No, but when it does what are we to do?" Susan asked, nerves frazzled. "Who's to say it won't start tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. We don't have enough information."

"If we go to Hogwarts this year then we'll be able to get that information, Su." Peter pointed out, annoyed.

"Besides, we were all trying to find a way to escape boredom earlier. This could definitely help." Lucy smiled brightly at her sister, and her brothers offered small smiles in return. Susan, on the other hand, wasn't so accepting.

"This isn't about that, Lu." She sounded exasperated and tired at the same time, and not necessarily from lack of sleep. "What about our Vow?"

Her siblings' downtrodden faces were their only responses.

"We're not allowed to take sides. We must see the world as Grey. This isn't Narnia where everything is cut and dry, you know. Then and there, we could take a side. Not now." Susan said finally and laid her head in her hands.

The other three sighed. She was right.

Suddenly, Edmund's head shot up from where he had been looking at the floor, startling his siblings out of their inner musings. No, Susan wasn't right, at least, not completely.

"We're already a part of the war though, remember?" Seeing the other three's confused faces, he pressed on. "Voldemort was Tom Riddle, right?" Peter scowled at the name, but it proved his point. "Well then, technically speaking, we started this war when we told Tom about the Horcrux book. If we hadn't done that he probably wouldn't have found it."

"But, Ed, Aslan told us to tell Tom about the book." Lucy interjected. "He told us right before we left that we had to go back and tell Tom about it."

"Exactly, Lu. We helped one side, now we have to help the other." That cleared some things up, and Susan was actually smiling the first real smile Edmund had seen on her all day.

"But what about our little Book Keepers? Don't they count as helping the other side?" Lucy asked after a moment.

"Not exactly. Currently they're all in the Grey area so they fall under our direct jurisdiction. Since some of them come from dark backgrounds and others from light ones, technically we're not helping either side with them." Having said that, the dark haired man leaned back on his chair in contentment.

"Edmund, sometimes your knack for finding loopholes astounds me." Peter half-joked, only to be met in the face with a pillow.

"Shut up, Pete." He laughed and threw it back at his younger brother, too used to the younger man's temperament.

"So, are we going to go or not?" Lucy moved to sit on the arm of the sofa as she asked. Turning her head to look at her eldest brother, he in turn turned towards the elder of his two sisters.

"Susan?"

A pause in which said woman seemed to struggle with herself. A moment later she apparently gave up and nodded her head slightly.

"Fine." A small cheer went up from the eldest and the youngest of the four. "But, **but**, if I feel that something is going to happen, we leave and return to the Woods, understood?" The others nodded and Susan relaxed, happy that the decision was out of the way.

"Now, to the next order of business-,"

"You sound like Chamberlain Goldfeather, Ed." Another pillow to the older man's face allowed Edmund to continue uninterrupted.

"Lu, you mentioned our little Book Keepers. Have you been watching them recently?" The youngest nodded, excitedly.

"Mmhm, in fact, I do believe some of them are starting to understand the stories."

"Really?" That was surprising seeing as only a few of the seven books could be understood independently of each other. "Who?"

"Draco Malfoy." Understandable, his book was almost a stand-alone. "Neville Longbottom." Also understandable. "And Luna Lovegood." That wasn't much of a surprise only because Luna was so unique.

"And the other four?"

"Still lost." Nods all around. They had expected that. At least the books were safe though.

"Well, if that is all, I think we should all be getting to bed." Peter said a minute later, getting up and cracking his knuckles.

Edmund and Lucy moved to follow him, but Susan curiously stayed sitting. Crossing her arms, she cleared her throat and glared at her little brother's back.

"I wouldn't be going anywhere Edmund Randall, we still have to talk about your attitude this morning."

Peter and Lucy laughed.

* * *

Frustrated.

That was the only word that could accurately describe what Draco Malfoy was feeling at that very moment. Now, it wasn't because he hadn't gotten the new broom he wanted or because his parents were off at another party, no, he was frustrated because he couldn't understand what was wrong with the damn book he was reading.

As opposed to most of the other books in his family's library, this one wasn't dark or yellowing from disuse. In fact, in comparison, it wasn't all that old. One of the things that was annoying him about the book though, was that fact that it was old enough to not look as pristine as it was.

It was a children's book actually, one Draco had found when he mis-flooed into an old mansion at about the age of five. Most of the books he had had at that age were now yellow. Another thing was that he couldn't seem to get rid of it. He was positive that every year he didn't put the book into his school trunk, but sure enough, it always turned up. Draco had even asked the house elves if it was their doing, but they always replied with a, "No, Master Draco." It was infuriating.

He'd even tried to destroy it, but: a. he had once tossed it into the fire and it didn't burn, and b. he had once sent a spell at it only for the spell to dissolve. Frankly, the book creeped him out.

All that aside, however, it wasn't what was (currently) annoying him about the small little novel. No, what was really frustrating about the book was that fact that he couldn't get it out of his head. When he had first read it—without his father's knowledge—he had been astounded to discover that it seemed to be muggle in origin seeing as there were no references to wizardry and witches were apparently "evil." At first realization, the little wizard had been ready to toss the book away, but…it had been such a good story! He couldn't do it! Whether or not that was a good decision still had yet to be determined.

However, that wasn't what had prompted his sudden inability to forget about the little fairytale.

As it stood, Draco had been getting Pansy and Blaise settled into the manor before they were to leave for school the next week. They always arrived together, and the blond had wanted to speak with his friends about something so he had helped them unpack. What he found at the bottom of Blaise's trunk (for he would never help Pansy with her luggage) had been a small book. The main title was exactly the same as his, but the subtitle was different, almost like it was one of a set.

When Pansy saw it, she announced—rather loudly—that she had a similar book with a different subtitle. After all three sat down together to show their copies, they soon realized that together the stories made very little sense. Pansy's and Blaise's seemed to be closer, but there was a rather large gap between theirs and his.

Also, for being written around the same time, all three books were absolutely pristine with no hint of dust or tear. They had even tested the novels by ripping a page in each and closing them. Upon opening the books again, the tears were gone as if they had never been. They tried test after test: burning them, blasting them with spells (which, not surprisingly, never even reached the targets), and even throwing them in water. No matter what, the books never changed.

The worst part was when they tested for protection spells. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The tests proved negative to any type of protection whether they were light or dark. Nothing. Annoyingly, they weren't surprised.

When asked where they had gotten the little novels, both Pansy and Blaise responded that they had mis-flooed to an old mansion and found the books alone in an old wardrobe. The fact that they all went at different times and each only found one book in the exact same spot was slightly eerie.

Combined with his usual insomnia, the inability to get the muggle fairytale out of his head was increasingly aggravating the Malfoy heir. His two friends had gone to bed not long ago, but Draco seemed unable to get the confusing puzzle to leave him alone. As it stood, the blond spent the night trying to understand whatever happened to High Queen Ann, King Martin, Queen Rose, and King Peter.

* * *

With a sigh of relief, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sank down in his chair and closed his eyes. They had accepted. _Thank Merlin, They accepted_.

The meeting that he had just undergone with Them had been draining and nerve-wracking for the old man. No matter how innocent or safe the Four may have looked, They were truly some of the most powerful people in the world(s). Oh, for sure, They weren't witches and wizards, never had been despite their ancestry, but muggles They certainly weren't either. In fact, Dumbledore didn't really know what They were.

For a long time, he had overlooked them; let them stupidly slip past the locating charms even when their mother expressed concerns. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on your point of view), before he let them slip completely, they did the impossible; they stopped Magic. Not magic, Magic; the capitalization could be heard. And not only did they stop It, but they ripped It apart, piece by piece, and placed It in a willow tree.

That tree was more popularly referred to now as the Whomping Willow.

However, the truly terrifying part about that was the fact that they had stopped the Magic from within a wizard and extracted it. That man then had to live out the rest of his days as a muggle. The eldest Pevensie had only been fourteen years old.

At the time, through numerous tests, Albus was able to deduce that both Magic and magic would not be able to affect them unless they allowed It to. They could rip the Magic out of a person and give It to another if they so chose to and they could follow the flow of the mystical energy through time and worlds. Unfortunately, everything must come with a price.

The Pevensies' price: their mortality and their morality. No longer could they age, though they were free to alter their bodies to fit an age they had already been, and no longer could they pick a side. Sometimes, They had to let the dark have good luck. Thankfully for him, They had already helped the blacker end of Magic, as They had so greatly stressed to him.

_Albus wasn't quite sure how long he had been waiting before his old body was forcefully dragged into the Woods. Having only been there a few times before, he was disorientated and slightly sleepy, suddenly feeling as if his world was being erased from his mind. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or if the Four arrived before that, but all the old professor could really determine was that one minute he was sitting at the base of a tree and the next he was standing in front of four, very regal Beings._

_His body moved without his consent, bowing before the Four and saying, "Your Majesties," in a reverential tone._

_Whether They returned anything in kind, Albus wasn't completely sure, his mind still trying to focus itself. They did, however, guide him over to one of the many pools of water on the ground and motioned for him to stand before it. After this, the professor wasn't sure how much Time passed, or if It even passed at all, before Peter spoke, but the feeling of absolute awe that replaced his former naïveté about the in between place would probably always remain with him._

"_Albus," said man snapped his head to look at the elder of the two men that stood before him, and inclined his to acknowledge that he was listening. "We have spoken thoroughly on the request you brought before Us earlier, and We have decided to accept."_

_Euphoria erupted within the old wizard's body, but before he could say a word of thanks, Peter continued. "However, make no mistake. We do not do this for your sake or even for the sake of those beside you, but because We are already involved in this war."_

"_You know We are not allowed to pick a side to help win, but because We have already aided the Dark, Our time to aid the Light has come." Edmund picked up, and Albus was surprised to hear such power that was usually absent whenever he visited. _

"_Thank you, Your Majesties." The old man bowed again, this time more in control. _

"_You are most welcome, professor." The older of the girls stated with a serious look in her normally gentle eyes. "But you must remember while We are with you that you do not command Us. We are not your students or your staff. We are not subject to the rules of your school and We are allowed to roam wherever We feel it is necessary. We are there on your request and if We feel as if you are abusing your power, We will put you in your place."_

_Cowed, Dumbledore nodded._

"_You must also keep in mind, Albus," Lucy spoke, solemnly. "That sometimes even the dark side must have good luck. We are not there to determine this battle, but to prepare your students for it and to protect them if need be. It is up to all of you, however, to determine who wins and who loses."_

_The purple robe he wore brushed the ground as the old man bowed again in acknowledgement. _

_"__That being said," Edmund began. "We will pose as children in order to better speak to and gain information from the students. Each of Us will chose a house to reside in and We will try and prepare the other children as much as We possibly can."_

"_Hogwarts does not accept transfer students, though." Albus stated, confused as to how They were to pull this off._

"_We know, which is why We will use Our relation to you and say We were home schooled. Each of Us will have Hogwarts acceptance letters as proof." The dark haired man continued, pulling out four letters that Albus was sure he had never sent. Oh well, the time to dwell on that would be later. The more pressing concern about the plan was something else._

"_But, if You pose as students, You will be much too young to be my grandchildren." The strange old man replied. For, in truth, that was who They were: his grandchildren. The children of his most beloved younger daughter.  
_

"_Which is why We will say We are your descendants of five generations past." Susan said, looking at the man Their mother told Them to call 'Grandfather.'_

"_I understand." He didn't, not really, but he knew They would only reveal what They felt needed to be said._

"_Good." The blond man nodded. "Now, we will return you to your office. Until then, Grandfather."_

_And Albus Dumbledore entered the pool before him and returned from the Wood between the Worlds._

He sighed again at the memory. Every time he saw them like that, he wondered at what his line had become. Not many knew of the loveless and short-lived, arranged marriage he had had to Abigail Kirke, nor did many know of the two daughters, Squibs both, that marriage had produced. As such, his grandchildren were born without the Magic that normally would be expected from the line of such a great wizard. That is, until the day his grandchildren, all of them, displayed the ability to reject Magic. Only one of those grandchildren was dead now, the others probably never to follow.

Oh, the secrets of Magic and those that lived with It.

His thoughts began to wander to the upcoming year and what it would bring. He knew the Pevensies would arrive on September 1st just like all of the children, but that was really the extent of it. How they would arrive was a mystery to him, as he did not know whether they would ride the train or come by some other such way that would leave him baffled. Not surprisingly, they did retain some of his love for secrecy.

Chuckling slightly to himself at the thought, the old wizard grabbed a handful of lemon drops and popped them into his mouth. The tangy and sour taste erupted on his tongue and he mumbled in pleasure. Just the thing to calm his fraying nerves.

Speaking of fraying nerves, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was beginning to rub them against sandpaper. Now, Dumbledore was a very patient man and he was a very considerate one as well, but Dolores seemed bent on driving that patience and kindness to their ends. The sad part was that he had only met her that day, which actually prompted him to the Four for help.

_At least Harry is at the Headquarters now,_ he thought belatedly, trying to get his mind away from Madam Umbridge. The flight from Number Four Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place had, at first, worried the old man, but he had had confidence in the Order to get Harry there safely. Thankfully, they did not disappoint him.

Still, as the moon shone down into the office, Albus' eyes ceased to shine and he sighed again, letting his mind wonder the 'what ifs' to come.

* * *

Well, that's it for the prologue. I hope I piqued your interest and that I raised questions. Hopefully, I left enough hints for all of you to figure some of the things out and I would love to know what you think.

Please review, but DON'T FLAME! I encourage constructive criticism, but flames don't help stories get better. And yes, I know Dumbledore is gay, which is why he never fell in love with his wife and the marriage was short-lived. However, for such a powerful wizard of the time, I felt that he might have been pressured into an arranged marriage.

I don't know when the next update will be because I have many other stories I'm writing and I also have to do College Applications and prepare for my IB tests. Thank you so much for reading though, and I hope to hear from you all soon!

Happy Belated New Year! BYE!

--TimeMage0955


	2. Wands of Wood and Hair

Hey everyone, so here is the first actual chapter of my story. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they make me so happy. I hope this lives up to your expectations and keeps you wanting more. I'm really just trying to build up the mystery right now, so hopefully you're all really curious.

Now, this chapter is currently un-beta-ed so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. If anyone who's good at grammar would like to beta for me I would greatly appreciate it. I'm trying to fit this story in between my schoolwork and everything, but hopefully, once that's all done, I can update more frequently with longer chapters.

Disclaimer: Really, if I owned this, I wouldn't even bother going to school.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**To Judge the Lost**

**Chapter 1: Wands of Wood and Hair**

A week.

They only had a week to get their supplies, close up their business, and somehow convince the Board of Governors at Hogwarts to let them into the school late. Thankfully, Albus was taking care of the first one and businesses are easy to close when they don't exist. The third one was a bit more challenging, but with a bit of name flaunting and fake references, their places at Hogwarts were guaranteed.

A part of Lucy was angry that their grandfather had neglected to seek them out earlier, but she had never been one to dwell on such things, preferring to let them pass and move on with what she had to do. Such was the reason that she and her family were currently walking through the endless copse of Trees that made up the Wood Between the Worlds, six days after their grandfather's visit.

To any other being outside of her siblings and herself, the Woods would take away their memories, making them entirely blissful and sleepy. The Four, however, had protection against such things, Aslan's love surrounding and making them a part of the very Magic in the Woods.

Still, this did not give them control over magic, leaving them to find a means to fool other wizards and witches into believing them to be of their ilk. As it stood, they needed a way to pull the magic out of others without actually touching them. The Trees were their solution.

Like the rings they wore on their fingers, the Magic that wanted to get away from and go towards the Woods also worked on magic. The diluted combination of Wild and Old Magics (or just magic as it is easier to refer to) that witches and wizards used, would be attracted to the wood used for the wands, allowing the Pevensies to make it look like they were actually performing spells and charms.

Now, all they needed to find was the correct Tree for each of them.

"Urg, that's it!" Lucy heard the cry from her left. She spun around in time to catch Edmund throwing up his arms in defeat. "We're never going to find good ones."

"Edmund," Susan said, appearing from a little copse of Trees behind Lucy. "We are in an endless Wood, filled with endless Trees. Chances are, we're going to find one."

"She's right, Ed." Peter stepped up and put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Besides, you've only been looking for twenty minutes. I highly doubt we'd expect to find one in less than an hour."

"Well, that's all jolly good and everything, but that doesn't exactly help the fact that I'm bored and hungry." Crossing his arms like a petulant child, Lucy thought her brother sounded quite silly, and only just managed to cover her mouth to hide the giggle she just knew was coming.

"Oh really, Edmund." Susan sighed, exasperated. "How old are you again?"

"That depends." The younger replied smartly. "Do you want physical, chronological, or cumulative age?"

His older sister's response was to purse her lips in the same manner as that of a disapproving mother. Edmund, on the other hand, grinned.

"Oh come on, Ed. Would you rather we picked out the wood for you?" Lucy teased, very much aware of how much her brother would have protested at such a thing.

"No." He pouted.

"Then get up and keep searching." The youngest finished with a small giggle at his face, turning back around to search elsewhere. Even as she left, the redhead could still hear her brother's grumbling.

Contrary to what many would have believed upon entering the Woods, none of the Trees were exactly alike. In fact, there were Trees here that didn't even exist in some worlds. For example, during their first year of living in the Woods, Lucy had found the Narnian Toffee Tree growing right next to a Birch Tree. Unfortunately, she cringed at the thought of explaining that her wand came from a toffee plant to wizards, and silently prayed that the wood she would use had some Earthly origin.

It was lucky for her that is, when many hours and many groans for food (Edmund) later, that the youngest queen of Narnia found herself attracted to a rather large Willow. It was not quite as big as the Whomping Willow Lucy remembered from the Forbidden Forest, but it was still strong and durable and perfect for wand making.

She did, however, have to ask permission.

Dipping into a low and graceful Narnian curtsy, Lucy called out to the Tree and said, "Dear Guardian of this Sacred Woods, I ask You if I may take a branch from Your side?"

The Tree seemed to move as if a breeze had passed, and the young woman listened in earnest. For you see, the Trees in this not-World did not speak like the ones in Narnia, nor were they silent like the ones on Earth, but they felt through the intertwining Magics that made up the Worlds' Bridge. It was this Magic that Lucy listened to, hearing the Tree's question on why She would need such a thing.

"Dear Guardian, My Royal Siblings and I have been asked to guide young magic users in this war of Dark and Light. In order to do this, We must appear to use magic as well." The woman replied, still in her curtsy. "It is for this reason that I beseech You to allow Us to use Your noble branch and that of Your families'.

Lucy felt the Magics pulse as the Tree contemplated her request, trying in earnest to slow her beating heart. She had only had to do this once before, but the former wand had already been returned to Its' Tree and could not be regained.

Presently though, the Willow in front of her seemed to have reached a decision and slowly lowered one of Its' branches to her level. Deepening the curtsy, Lucy then rose to pluck the branch from the larger Tree, silently promising to return It to Its' Parent when she was finished.

Dipping her skirts once more, she replied, "My thanks, good Willow. Rest assured, I will keep this Child of Your Body safe."

With that, the redhead left the area to return to the pool they had marked as leading back to Earth. Truly, it was an unnecessary thing to do as it was the pool with the largest concentration of guinea pigs, but Susan and Peter had both agreed that there was never too much precaution (especially after that one incident involving Edmund and a rather large bowl of fruit).

Upon her entrance to the clearing, Lucy spotted a worn out and moaning Edmund, loosely clutching what appeared to be a thick thread of Ivy. Her eldest brother sat near him, smiling in amusement at the younger's antics while holding a piece of holly plant. Susan, on the other hand, appeared to be getting rather tired of Edmund's constant complaining, and looked ready to hit him with her birch branch. Lucy did suspect that she saw a twinkle of laughter in her sister's eyes, though.

It was Edmund that first noticed Lucy's arrival and jumped up to greet her, most likely happy that they could all go now.

"Finally!" His call brought the attention of the elder two, both of which smiled at her in greeting.

"Get lost there, Lu?" Peter smiled, only half-joking. The other half Lucy knew had been slightly worried, even if there was nothing in the Woods that could harm her.

"Hardly." The youngest Pevensie giggled. It was nearly impossible, after all, to get lost in a Woods where you could ask almost any Tree for directions.

"Can we go now, Susan?" Edmund cut in, clutching his stomach in an over-dramatic play of hunger.

Said woman gave the younger male a reproachful look, but nodded her head anyway. "Yes, Edmund we can go now."

"Yes!"

Not even waiting for his siblings, the dark haired man had already slipped off his yellow ring leaving the green one on his finger. A second later he was gone, leaving his siblings shaking their heads in mock exasperation.

"Well, I suppose it's only right to follow him." Susan put her hands on her hips. "Aslan knows what trouble he'll get into if we're not there to stop him."

"Must we?" Their eldest brother teased. "It's so much quieter without him."

"Oh hush," Lucy laughed, elbowing her brother in the stomach.

"Oi!" The blond chuckled, rubbing the offending area. "Watch where you put that thing, Lu!"

His youngest sister's response though, was to stick out her tongue and dash over to the pool, her yellow ring safely in her pocket. Peter followed quickly behind, and both were soon gone, leaving Susan, raised eyebrow and all, in their wake.

"Children, all of them." Sighing, the elder queen calmly placed her yellow ring in her purse and glided over to the pool. A moment later, she felt herself fall through the water and back down to Earth.

The Woods were silent.

* * *

Thestrals as you may or may not know, are said to be notoriously bad luck by any with even a drop of wizarding blood. This may be due to their carnivorous nature or the way one is able to view them, but to most wizards they are a bad omen, synonymous only with The Grim and The Dark Mark. In total, Thestrals are Death walking.

The Pevensies thought this was absolute bosh.

While true that the only way to see them was to view a death, the skeletal horses were quite lovely. So lovely in fact, that even Susan, her gentle nature at the fore, simply adored the magnificent creatures. Not to mention, their tail hairs made exceptionally good cores for the wands the four needed.

It was with such good fortune then that there just so happened to be a herd of Thestrals living in the surrounding forests of their home in Coombe Halt. Yes, they are a fortunate group of people.

"Careful, careful." Peter murmured under his breath, trying to steady his younger brother's footsteps.

"I'm being careful Peter. Just shut up and stop making me nervous." Edmund growled under his breath. Really, if Peter thought he could do better, then the younger man welcomed him to try.

"Last time you scared them off." Peter said with a slight glare. "We can't afford for that to happen again."

"Yeah," Edmund forced. "And who was the one that made me scare them off? Oh yeah, you!"

Peter's jaw clenched and he looked ready to send back a biting comment, but Susan beat him to it.

"Why don't the both of you just shut up so we can go back to the mansion." Her lips were pursed and her eyes were narrow. "I don't know about the two of you, but I'm ready to leave." The boys really couldn't blame her for her mood as they had been out in the forest for over two hours now.

"I have to agree with Susan." Lucy sighed, rubbing her aching feet. "Can't you just get the hairs already?"

"This is a very delicate process Lucy, and must be handled with care." The sisters shared a look. Who did Edmund think he was kidding?

"Delicate, huh?" Lucy asked, eyebrow raised.

Wiping her hands on her pants, the youngest got up and walked boldly over to the beautiful creature.

"Lucy!" Edmund hissed, and the woman could almost picture him throwing his head back into his hands. At the moment though, none of that mattered.

Right now, she needed four hairs.

For those of you that don't already know, Thestrals as a rule only have thirteen hairs on their tails for their entire lifetime. As the four didn't want to kill the creature by pulling out the last ones, they had to make sure it had enough hairs for them to use and still live a long life. If it didn't, then they would have to spend even more time looking for another Thestral.

Great.

Their luck, however, seemed to have held up. The particular Thestral in front of them appeared to still have all thirteen of its hairs, if the darker color of its skin were any indication, so losing four wouldn't be all that detrimental. The hard part was actually taking them out, but Lucy hadn't gone to veterinary school without learning how to deal with finicky animals… even if they were, technically, fictional.

Ignoring her siblings' whispered words for her to come back, the youngest Pevensie eased up to the grazing horse(-thing) and gently began to run her hand down its back. It was cold to the touch and she had to admit that it was slightly creepy when she ran over a bone, but at the same time she marveled at the creature and its deadly beauty. It actually reminded her of a boggle somewhat, what with its leathery thin skin, only horse-like and nice.

…Okay, maybe a boggle is a bad example.

Nevertheless, she continued to run her hand down the creatures' back, surreptitiously glancing at the tail to make sure the hairs would actually appear. If she remembered correctly from the book Susan gave her, a Thestral's hairs would only appear when they were completely relaxed. Hopefully, she could get the creature to calm enough so that her brothers wouldn't have to step in. Knowing them, they would take it way out of proportion.

Suddenly, she saw one. It was just for a second really, barely worth getting excited over, but Lucy knew that soon she would be able to see all the silvery-black strands. Seeing that one piece, even slightly, meant that she was getting it to relax.

Gently, gently now, she moved her hand further down its back, trying to get as close to the tail as she could so that she could get the hairs faster and easier. A minute passed and Lucy could almost sense her siblings' anxiety. Truly, they worried over the simplest of things.

That one-minute turned into two, then three, until finally ten minutes had gone by. Then, when the youngest Pevensie was beginning to get anxious, a hair appeared, followed by another, and another, thirteen soon showing along the bony tail. Giving a small cry of delight, Lucy quickly pulled at the four closest to her and, still stroking the Thestral with her free hand, yanked the hairs out.

Rearing back on its hind legs, the creature began to pull away, but fortunately Peter and Edmund appeared at her side to calm it down. Meanwhile, Susan grabbed Lucy's hand and pulled her back towards to underbrush where they had been hiding, not letting go even as they fell down onto the soft earth.

For a moment, everything was silent; only the sounds of the braying Thestral made its way throughout the din. Soon though, even that stopped, and the girls could hear the sound of hoof beats moving away. A second later their brothers appeared, faces tight and tired. Then, almost as one, the elder three turned disapproving looks to their youngest sibling.

"…I got the hairs…" And the berating began.

* * *

Peter was not an artist. Susan was not an artist. Edmund was not an artist. And Lucy most certainly was not an artist.

Truly, it was a wonder then that they actually managed to make their wands. For you see wandmaking is an art, and they, as formerly stated, were not artists. In their humble opinion, the process probably would have gone a lot smoother if they actually had a professional with them to help, but well, as you can probably already guess, those were rather hard to come by on such short notice. Pity, their grandfather didn't see fit to actually set them up with one.

"You know," Edmund stated after the entire fiasco was done with, "out of all the things Albus is getting us for this little trip, he couldn't get us a wandmaker?"

"Be glad he's getting us anything at all." Peter replied, sending his younger brother an exasperated look from his place on the bench. "Last time he didn't even do that."

"Yes, well last time we officially visited Hogwarts was fifty-two years ago and we almost destroyed Diagon Alley in the process." Susan muttered, taking a sip of iced tea.

"That was not our fault," Her younger brother defended. "I blame that pale nosed little blighter from the book shop!"

"You mean Abraxas Malfoy?" Peter smirked, remembering said 'pale nosed little blighter.'

"Exactly!"

"You really have to get over that, Edmund." Lucy giggled from her seat amongst the flowerbeds. "He was only sixteen."

"So? I was thirteen." The older boy pointed out, ripping off a piece of his sandwich with his teeth.

"Technically Ed, you were twenty-eight." Peter mentioned. "Or one thousand, four hundred and sixty-nine, depending on what timeline you're following."

"Yes Peter, because that isn't complicated at all." Edmund replied, his voice rich with sarcasm.

"I'm just saying…" The eldest Pevensie trailed off, raising his lemonade glass to his lips in order to hide his growing smile.

"Well, stop saying." Edmund grumbled, finishing off his sandwich and crossing his arms.

"Oh Edmund, really." Susan sighed, also trying to smother a smile. Edmund really was quite adorable when he was frustrated. Of course, they'd never tell him that; better to just let him think he was intimidating.

"But honestly Ed, you really expected Grandfather to supply us with a wandmaker after that little fiasco?" Lucy raised her eyebrow in question.

"He invited us back to the school, didn't he?" Her brother reminded her and Lucy had to nod in consent.

"True," she said, "and nothing happened while we were there last time."

Susan, however, felt it prudent to add, "Don't forget about that little issue with that unfortunate Care of Magical Creatures professor."

The grimaces that graced her siblings' faces told her that they indeed hadn't forgotten.

"…It wasn't our fault…?" The disbelieving looks Edmund received told him that his siblings really didn't buy that one.

"Oh come on!" He threw his hands up into the air. "At least we didn't extract his magic and put it in a tree like we did that other guy."

"No, but we made the poor man retire early." Susan lightly admonished. "They had to cancel his class for the rest of the year."

"And we were thanked heartily by the rest of the staff." Her little brother stated matter-of-factually.

"He's got a point, Susan." Lucy said, giggling as she tried to complete her flower crown.

"I know he has a point, Lucy, but that doesn't make it any less cruel." The older Pevensie sister said, still feeling guilty over the scare they had given the poor man.

"Oh come on, Su," Edmund goaded, "You have to admit that when we started playing with the Giant Acromantula, it was pretty funny."

"Well…" Susan didn't look so sure, still picturing the terrified professor's face when she and her siblings began playing with the giant spider. "Maybe a little."

"That's the spirit, Su!"

"Still, you can't blame Grandfather for not wanting us to come into contact with a wandmaker." The older woman replied, once again bringing them back on topic. "Besides, can you imagine what their reaction would be to seeing Thestral tail hairs for the cores? Why, it'd be absolute chaos!

"Point." Peter nodded his head. "And at least he's gotten us everything else. I suppose it's only right we make our own wands."

"Loony old bat probably just doesn't want a repeat of Diagon Alley." The darker hair man mumbled.

"Yes, well, after making the magic in all the buildings, including Gringotts, go off, and inadvertently releasing the dragons from said bank, I'd day Albus is justified in his line of thinking." Susan turned a raised eyebrow at her little brother.

"I blame Malfoy." Said brother fired back, defensibly.

"So a sixteen year old wizard made you lose control and take away the all the magic from Diagon Alley?" Peter questioned, trying (unsuccessfully) to hide his smile.

"He was making fun of us!"

"Well, at least you managed to put it all back before something worse happened." Lucy smiled ruefully at her older brother, remembering the day with bright clarity.

Grumbling, Edmund didn't even deign her with a reply, preferring just to stare at his poor, bruised hands.

"Still, having a wandmaker to help us would have been nice." The younger woman stated, putting her finished crown on her sister's head. "Probably would have saved us all a lot of trouble too."

"Not to mention our fingers." Susan added, looking down at her swollen digits. "Who knew making a wand was so painful?"

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Peter murmured, also looking down at his bandaged hands.

"Mmmhmm." His youngest sibling nodded and pulled her wand out from her back pocket. "The sad part is that they're not even real wands. Can you imagine having to add a magical thread to the inside as well? We'd never finish them."

"Probably another reason Albus didn't send help." Peter added. "Doesn't want anybody else to know that we're not real witches and wizards."

"Too true, Pete, too true." Edmund sighed and leaned back against the tree. "Still, I'm sure Ollivander wouldn't have minded. Chap probably knows almost as much as Dumbledore."

"Yes, but Albus is far too cautious about us." Susan said, slightly annoyed at their grandfather for his overprotective ways. Even she wasn't that overbearing.

"Well, at least we have the wood and the hairs. It should be enough to form a connection with the excess magic at Hogwarts." The eldest Pevensie said, trying to steer the conversation away from their grandfather.

"I hope it's enough." Lucy murmured, staring at her wand in silent contemplation.

"It was enough last time, and then we didn't even have cores." Edmund replied.

"True, but we weren't required to do magic then." His little sister pointed out.

"No, but we still had to do some to keep up appearances."

"Noted."

There was a long moment of silence in which the four just sat in the garden enjoying the breeze. It was a nice moment they supposed, what with not yet having to worry about the year ahead. Still, Edmund felt it prudent to speak up.

"I still think we should have had a wandmaker."

"Shut up, Edmund."

For once, Edmund did as he was told.

* * *

"And of course he can't send them through the mail like a _normal_ person."

"Edmund-"

"I mean _really_, owls!?"

"Ed-"

"Why doesn't he just put up a giant neon sign saying 'I'm a wizard, hunt me!?'"

"Edmund-"

"I mean seriously, does he want people to start asking questions?"

"Edmund!"

"What?"

"Shut up!"

That last one, if you must know, was shouted by the other three Pevensies not ranting about their grandfather's new-found lack of tact. While they weren't exactly thrilled about the four owls currently making themselves feel welcome at the dinner table, they didn't find it exactly horrible either.

"Why?"

The same could not be said for Edmund.

Susan though, having long ago taken over the role of a mother, replied, "Because you're acting like a two year old. Now, sit back down and finish your grapes."

"What grapes?"

Pointing to the ones on his plate, she said, "Those grapes."

"But I'm allergic to grapes!"

"You're allergic to white grapes, those are red." And really, she would know after living with (and cooking for) her siblings for so long.

Apparently, Edmund knew this as well, and grumbling managed to sit back down and stuff the grapes down his throat.

"Slow down, Ed. You don't want to choke now, do you?" Peter chuckled slightly, raising an eyebrow and watching his brother carefully to make sure he didn't do just that.

"Gurmuphle puff snub uff." Was the eloquent reply Peter got, which really only served to make the older man chuckle harder.

Susan, though, just sighed, "Really Edmund, learn to act your age."

Swallowing, Edmund replied, "Yes, mum."

A snort from Lucy's end of the table only served to deepen Susan's frown, but the older woman was really too tired by this point to comment.

"Oh come on, Su," Lucy said with a bright smile, "Don't be such a wet blanket."

"Yeah, Susan, live a little." Edmund cajoled, plopping another grape into his mouth.

Smiling slightly, his older sister replied, "I will start to 'live a little' when you get some manners."

"Darn." The younger man said in mock disappointment. When only with his family, Edmund didn't really feel the need for formal manners. With others, now that was a different story.

"Oh wow!"

The sudden cry from Lucy brought the attention of the two middle siblings. Turning their bodies to face the other two Pevensies, they found the eldest and the youngest moving amongst the items their grandfather had sent.

Charms that made the supplies smaller and lighter were instantly gone as soon as they came within close proximity of the two, and soon the floor was littered with items. Books upon books, and clothes upon clothes, graced the once spotless dining room, but none of the former kings and queens could really bring themselves to care all that much. Despite their (Edmund) complaining, wizarding items were always interesting to see.

"The Standard Book of Spells: Grade One by Miranda Goshawk." Lucy mused, picking up the book and flipping through it. "Oh, I remember this one! I read it last time we were at Hogwarts. It was in the library."

"Oh yeah." Peter nodded. "I remember you saying how you wished you could use the floating charm to sneak biscuits up to your room."

Susan, having never heard of that before, exclaimed, "Lucy!"

"What?" At this, the younger woman gave her best impression of a kicked puppy and Susan melted. Worked every time.

"Hey, look at these." Edmund stated, drawing everyone away from the books and over to where he stood holding up the school uniforms.

"Well they're certainly not going to fit us right now." And indeed the clothes would not, seeing as they were all at least three sizes to small.

"No, but they will tomorrow." Peter said, picking up the largest of the four (which still wasn't all that large). "As soon as we're young again, these should fit like a glove."

"About that Peter," Lucy murmured uncertainly. "If you're going to be fifteen, then won't I be ten?"

"Yeah, so?" Edmund answered for Peter.

"Well, aren't the first years supposed to be eleven? How are we to explain that?"

Peter thought about it for a moment. The one problem with them all aging down is that they couldn't all just pick the age they wanted to be. At any age, no matter what, they all had to keep the same age difference. Take for example if Susan wanted to be sixteen for a day. Well then, Peter would have to be seventeen, Edmund fourteen, and Lucy twelve. It was as simple as that.

Still, it wasn't that big of a problem currently.

"You'll just have to say you're eleven, Lu. It's not like there's much difference between the two anyway." There, simple.

Lucy was still unsure though. "But aren't there wards to prevent children from under eleven from doing magic at Hogwarts, even fake magic?"

"Technically, Lucy, we're all over two thousand years old cumulatively and that is what the detectors should pick up on." Susan spoke up, before looking contemplatively into the distance. "Assuming the detectors even work on us that is."

"The point is, Lu," Edmund rounded, "is that either way, your age doesn't matter as long as nobody thinks you're anything other than what you say you are. So just say you're eleven and everything will be fine."

"Still, I do so hate to lie to everyone." The youngest said again, morosely looking over all the things their grandfather sent them.

"We've been lying for a long time, Lu. This is just one more to add to the pile."

It was a very sobering thought.

* * *

"One."

A scurry of feet across a padded floor.

"Two."

A sigh of a silken skirt.

"Three."

The plunking sound of a trunk hitting the ground.

"Four."

The jingling of keys locking a door closed.

"Five."

Silence.

Susan Rose Pevensie gave her room a once over, taking in the now almost empty vanity and closet. Her clothes had already been packed away in her trunk and the items that her grandfather had sent at dinner were with them. The birch wand she had made earlier that day was also safely tucked away in a box at the bottom, meticulously surrounded by the softest clothes.

Just one more thing and she would be ready for the train-ride tomorrow.

Laying down on her bed and pulling the sheets up around her, Susan began to picture herself at fourteen: mid-back, black hair, slightly matured body, and smaller stature. As she drifted off to sleep, the woman could almost feel the Magics surrounding her, transforming her body into what it had once been; she even briefly thought she could hear the roar of a Lion.

_Yes_, she thought, her worries about the future temporarily easing, _I'm almost ready.

* * *

_

Harry Potter woke up with a start for the third time that night. Frantically, the fifteen year old moved his head around the room in order to make sure that he really was in the same room he went to sleep in and not in that horrible…whatever it had been; either a dungeon or a tower, he really couldn't remember.

Allowing his breathing to return to normal, the Boy Who Lived flopped back onto his bed with a thump. Really, this was the third nightmare that night. The first was Mrs. Weasley crying over Kreacher's body, with Ron and Hermione in the background. In the second, he found himself dreaming about his parents who seemed to be trying to tell him something, but were never actually able to speak. Now, he was dreaming about children and dungeons and towers and places he had never even known existed. How he wished he were just a normal person whose greatest nightmares revolved around failed Arithmancy tests.

Still,…that dream…it was so…_real_; more real even than his dreams about Voldemort. Everything was just so _alive_; so alive and yet so very _dead_ at the same time. It was almost as if he could feel the fear surrounding the people in his dreams, feel it and revel in it.

Oh_ Merlin,_ he was going to be sick.

Quickly and quietly, Harry got up from his bed, careful not to wake up Ron (although Harry was pretty sure his best friend wouldn't wake up even if there were Death Eaters right outside his room), and made his way over to the door. Opening it, he made a mad dash towards the nearest bathroom in order to empty the contents of his stomach.

A moment later, Harry found himself bent over the toilet, weakly raising his hand to flush the contents away. Merlin, he couldn't remember a time when he had felt this weak. It was like all his energy was gone, so lost in his memory of the dream and his rush to the restroom. Circe, Merlin, someone, make it stop! Take the faces away!

Those faces—such sad faces, such young faces, such old faces; funny how they seemed to age without really changing at all. One minute they were young and fresh, happy just to be alive, and the next they were so _old_, so weary and worn out that it made the boy want to reach out to each of them and give them back their smiles.

They just looked so _dead_, so dead when they should be so _alive_.

Four dead faces, all just seemingly floating in this dark grey void. Of course, Harry knew they had really been in a dungeon (or a tower), but to his sleep-deprived mind, all he could see were four young, but old, faces maneuvering aimlessly among the Grey.

Harry Potter wanted to cry. He wanted to cry for the four young children who forgot how to smile. He wanted to cry for the four old children who couldn't remember how to live. He wanted to cry just to make it stop. But…

He didn't.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains surrounding the headmaster's room. The night was finally over and a new day was just beginning. To the old man, it showed a promise for a new and wonderful year, full of new adventures and thrills.

_Yes_, Dumbledore thought, _let the new year begin_.

* * *

Fin! Yay, the first chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review, but don't flame! Next up, the Hogwarts Express (or something else depending on what I have the Pevensies do).

Oh, but before I get emails asking me about it, here is my explanation on capital letters involving the Pevensies:

-When Dumbledore addresses them, **usually** words like they, them, the four, and all such will be capitalized. This is because Dumbledore really doesn't view them as just his grandchildren, but also as these mysterious Beings that he knows deserve respect, but can't seem to figure out why.

-When the Pevensies use Us, We, etc., it usually refers to either, a.) the Royal We (or other such word), or b.) when they are in their Royal modes. Ergo, when they are not just Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy, but are the Kings and Queens of Narnia, commanding and powerful.

-This doesn't happen a lot, but other times, they will refer to themselves (as just the four Pevensies) in lower caps, while at the same time referring to their Royal selves in capital letters. Almost like alter egos really.

And that's all I can think of right now. If anything else comes up or you have a question that won't be answered later, then just shoot me an email and I will try my best to answer it.

Wow, that was too long for my tastes.

Have a wonderful rest of the week!

BYE!

--TimeMage0955

P.S. Now just go and push the little review button ^_^


	3. On the Nature of Trains and Corridors

Hey everyone, so here is the second chapter of _To Judge the Lost_. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they make me so happy. I hope this lives up to your expectations and keeps you wanting more.

Now, this chapter is currently un-beta-ed so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. If anyone who's good at grammar would like to beta for me I would greatly appreciate it. I'm trying to fit this story in between my schoolwork and everything, but hopefully, once that's all done, I can update more frequently with longer chapters.

If anyone is interested, the pairings are: Hermione/Ron, Draco/Ginny, Blaise/Luna, Neville/Hannah, and tentatively Harry/Pansy… tentatively (I've never tried it before and I really had no one else of significance to pair him up with, so if you have any better ideas, let me know. Just don't make it slash, Mary-Sue, or a Pevensie).

Disclaimer: Really, if I owned this, I wouldn't even bother going to school.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**To Judge the Lost**

**Chapter 2: On the Nature of Trains and Corridors**

Her nose itched. Badly.

In all truth, it wouldn't have been so bad if she could figure out where on her face her nose was. Actually, no, she knew where it was, the real problem however, was scratching it without first scratching her eyes, cheeks, or mouth. Oh, how she hated being small.

"Lucy, do stop fidgeting! You're going to get your skirt all wrinkled and messy." If this had been the first time Susan had asked, Lucy probably would have listened to her. As it stood, she had stopped obeying after the seventh time.

"But my nose is so itchy, Susan!" She complained from her seat at the back of the black cab. "And I can't reach up to scratch it."

"Well, why ever not, Lu?" The now fourteen-year-old girl asked, concerned.

"Because my nose isn't where it should be!" As if to prove her point, she moved her hand up to where she thought her nose would be and ended up touching her forehead. "See?"

"Oh, Lucy." Her older sister sighed. "Look at your reflection in the window. You'll just have to get used to it."

"But it's so hard, Susan." The ten-year-old leaned against the back of her seat. "I hate being small."

A laugh sounded from somewhere in the cab. "But, Lucy, you've always been small." Edmund joked from his place next to Peter.

"Oh, hush up, Edmund! That's not nice." Susan admonished, sending the twelve-year-old a mild, but firm, glare. "Besides, if memory serves, you were rather upset this morning when you kept tripping over your own two feet."

Another laugh sounded, this one slightly deeper. "She has a point, Ed." It took all of the younger boy's will power not to reach up and wipe that smug smirk off Peter's face. As if his brother hadn't been doing the exact same thing.

In fact…"This coming from the same person who kept knocking over his cereal bowl because he was reaching too far." Edmund grumbled under his breath.

"…Shut up, Ed." The weak glare Peter send him almost made the other boy laugh. Edmund: 1, Peter: 0. Seriously, that look wouldn't have even scared the most timid of Rabbits.

"Boys," Susan sent them a look, "act your ages."

"I thought we were acting our ages." The brothers shared a look of not-so-hidden amusement, the previous insults forgotten.

"Just because you look young, doesn't mean you can act like immature children."

"Wasn't that the point?" Peter raised an eyebrow at his exasperated sister. It was easy for her to say, she'd been as graceful as a swan ever since they all aged down.

"'Immature' being the operative word." The older girl admonished, absentmindedly scratching Lucy's nose for her when the younger made yet another failed attempt at doing so.

"Oh, come on, Su, don't be such a wet blanket." The fifteen-year-old blond pleaded, raising big blue eyes up to look at her. If Edmund was right, and he was rarely wrong in his humble opinion, they were even starting to water a bit.

"Peter Martin Pevensie! Are you trying to puppy-dog me?" The shocked look on their sister's face almost sent the youngest two Pevensies into fits of laughter.

"Depends," Peter stated, "is it working?"

"No!" Sweet Aslan, the look on Susan's face was priceless. Edmund probably wouldn't have given up this moment for anything in the world.

"Oh well, it was worth a shot." But Peter was grinning as he said this, so they all knew that he was feeling rather pleased with himself.

"It was a nice try, Pete." Edmund told him, jokingly.

"Why, thank you, Ed."

"No problem." The dark-haired youth turned to his older sister. "But seriously, Susan, you need to lighten up."

"Yeah," Lucy bounced up and down in her seat, "think of this as another adventure."

"I will 'lighten up', as you say, when we are all settled at the school and I'm positive nothing will go wrong." It was only then that her siblings noticed that her knuckles had turned white from gripping the edge of her skirt too tightly.

Maybe they shouldn't have teased her so much.

The mood in the car darkened. "Aslan's Mane, Su! Are you alright?" Peter immediately went into 'overprotective-big-brother mode,' as his siblings had dubbed it, grabbing her hands and forcing her to release the pleats of her skirt.

"I'm perfectly fine, Peter." But the strain in her voice stated otherwise. Obviously, she was very wound up.

"Oh Susan, what's wrong?" Lucy asked, concerned at her sister's sudden change in attitude.

"Nothing Lucy, everything's fine." By this point, her siblings weren't even sure she believed herself.

"Bollocks!"

"Edmund!"

"Well, it's true." The boy replied, ignoring his siblings' shocked and slightly disapproving looks. "Something's bothering you. Now what is it?"

"I'm going to sound so foolish, I know it." She sighed and looked down at her hands still held in her older brother's grasp.

"That's not true." Peter replied, trying to get her to calm down. "Now, tell us what's the matter?"

"It's just-" She sounded as if she would fall apart at any moment. "Peter, what if something happens?"

"Susan-"

"I mean we've always stayed hidden. We were never in any danger of being found out by wizards and…and-" But she couldn't seem to be able to articulate just what it was she was feeling.

"Su, why didn't you say this before?" The blond asked earnestly.

She sighed and looked down at her feet, away from her brother's concerned eyes. "You were all so excited at being able to do something again, and, oh I don't know." The normally stately girl seemed to wilt. "Peter, what are we to do if something goes wrong? I know I said that we would return to the Woods, but really! We've never been in this type of situation before."

"It's gonna be okay, Su, and if something does happen, well then we'll do what we always do." Peter gave her a small, encouraging smile.

"And what would that be?" She looked tired and her voice sounded dejected.

"Improvise till we get it right!" Edmund smirked and pumped a fist in the air. He, of course, did not realize just how close his hand came to punching his older brother in the face.

"Oi, watch it, Ed. We don't exactly have a lot of space back here." Peter turned his face away from his sister's to glare at his younger brother. Edmund at least had the decency to look sheepish.

Laughing, Lucy chimed in, "But Edmund's right, Susan, we'll just have to improvise."

"And how many times has that worked?"

"Nearly al-"

"Without one of us getting hurt?" Okay, so Edmund didn't have an answer to that one, but he felt that his argument still had some merit and that he should defend it in some way.

"Enough times to know that it works." He said with pomp. Crossing his arms, he refused to look at his siblings, just knowing that they were silently laughing. Oh well, at least they couldn't refute it.

"Right, Ed, right." The fact that Peter was trying not to laugh was not helping Edmund feel any better.

"So, basically, we're just going to walk into the school without a plan?" Susan asked, her nerves returning. "Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

"Well, if it helps, we'll be right there with you." Lucy smiled brightly as she said this. "And anyway, we don't know what's going to happen, but Aslan has never steered us wrong. Why should we start to doubt now?"

"Lucy's right, Su," Peter added gently. "It's going to be fine, and I'm sure once we get settled in, we'll have fun. Okay?"

Although slightly worried, Susan nodded. It helped a little bit at least; she could always trust in Aslan to protect her and her family. Still, it-

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

If they weren't so used to the unexpected, the four children probably would have jumped at the knocking on the cab window. For there, outside, was the driver, wanting to know if they were done talking as they had arrived at their destination. In fact, their trunks had already been placed on trolleys at the entrance to the train station.

Moving quickly, the four grabbed their smaller bags and opened the door, slightly embarrassed for having been caught unawares. The cab driver that had driven them from London Paddington Station, though, stood waiting for the money.

"How much?" Peter asked, pulling his wallet out of his pant's pocket.

"£11.10, sir."

The blond deposited the money into the man's hand and walked over to where his siblings stood waiting at the entrance. Lucy seemed like she was about to burst with excitement, almost completely forgetting the depressing conversation in the cab, and Edmund looked as if he very much wanted to get going. Susan, it would seem, appeared much more relaxed and collected than Peter thought possible after her slight episode, but he attributed it to the fact that she was out in public.

Putting a hand on his own trolley and making sure the trunk was secure, he said, "Well, let's get going then."

That seemed to be enough for Lucy as she rushed past them all and into the busy station. Completely unheeding to her siblings' calls for her to slow down, the currently tiny girl weaved in and out of the moving people, walking with a quick grace usually unseen in children. Still, it was a miracle she even managed to make it to the correct platform without bowling someone over at the speed she had been going.

"Lucy!" Susan called from behind, as the other three caught up to their younger sister. "You can't just go running off like that!"

"Sorry, Susan, but I'm just so excited. We haven't been to Hogwarts in ages." The tiny girl almost shouted, but her siblings sent her harried looks to be quiet.

"Lu, you can't say that out loud. You know that." Peter admonished, looking around to make sure nobody heard.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, Lu, just…just be more careful." Her eldest brother sighed, entirely too used to his sister's boundless energy. He really should have expected this.

It was only when they were sure that nobody was watching that they turned to look at the stone pillar in front of them. Or at least, what would have been a stone pillar.

While muggles and wizards alike would only have seen a brick wall between platforms 9 and 10, the Pevensie children were a bit different. Instead of brick, they saw what appeared to be rippling water floating in the air. It was slightly unsettling actually, to know that they would have to walk through it, while fighting to keep the rejection at bay.

You see, there was a tiny problem with the plan Dumbledore had for them. That problem: their ability to reject Magic and magic. Unlike what their grandfather thought, in that they could only take Magic from people, they actually took it from everywhere. It was just one of those little things they had neglected to tell Albus all those years ago. As such, when walking through the barrier, and as a consequence, the entire Wizarding World, the Pevensie children had to remain constantly on their guard. The one time they hadn't, they had set a dragon loose in Diagon Alley; stupidly, they had told their grandfather that it was because they accidentally took the Magic out of a wizard in charge of the Alley's magical flow, a Wizarding Electrician if you will.

Fifty-two years later and they still had yet to tell him the truth…whoops.

Steeling her resolve, it was actually Susan who was the first to make a move towards the barrier. "Well, I supposed we'd best get a move on before we miss the train and are forced to find another way to the school."

"Excited now, Susan?" Peter turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you were reluctant to go?"

"Practical, Peter, just practical." She sent him a small smile, but her older brother could still see the nervousness she was trying desperately to hide.

Laying a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, the older boy's voice softened. "Of course, Su, but don't worry, okay? We're right here with you."

Letting out a breathy sigh, the older queen nodded and turned to face the liquid wall. Well, might as well go now while she was reassured. Reigning in her Mental Shield of No Magic (as Lucy had termed it so long ago when they had struggled to find a way to explain Aslan's Love to their mother), Susan gripped her trolley in a vice grip and ran headfirst into what many would believe to be a brick wall.

A moment later—after she remembered to breathe and realized that her eyes were screwed shut—the fourteen-year old plucked up the courage to move out of the way of the pillar in order for her siblings to get through without bowling her over. She was practical, she remembered, and practical people move out of the way of potentially dangerous situations.

She didn't even bother reminding herself that if she were truly a practical person then she would have declined her grandfather's proposition.

"Oh wow!" Lucy's amazing exclamation startled Susan out of her reverie and back into the present moment. "Isn't is amazing, Susan?"

Looking around, the former gentle queen had to admit that it was quite amazing. Scores of witches and wizards of various ages moved about the platform surrounding the magnificent scarlet train. A train, Susan found, to be startlingly unchanged by time.

Edmund let out a low whistle behind her, "Never thought I'd see a train like that again. At least, not a functioning one."

For indeed the Hogwarts Express was nothing like the modern day bullet train, but more like the stereotypical locomotive of their day. In truth, it was a welcome sigh of relief.

"Indeed," Peter murmured, coming up to stand beside the older of his two sisters. "I wonder if they're the same on the inside?"

As you may have already guessed, the Pevensies had never actually taken the Hogwarts Express before. The first time they had visited Hogwarts was with their mother, and let it not be said that Lucy didn't have a temper, for by the end of that harrowing journey the four children had almost wished their mum had let them take the train. Yes, it had been that bad.

"Well, there's no use standing out here now is there?" Susan stated, shaking both her siblings and herself out of the unpleasant memories of their first trip to the school. "It's ten-fifty now, so we had best get on if we want to get good seats."

That set the four back into motion, causing them to bustle through teary parents and excited children, all shouting warnings and goodbyes. Deep in the depths of their old hearts, the Pevensies silently wished for their parents to be there in order to do the same. It was silly though, they reasoned, even if their parents were still alive, the children never would have let them know about the four's immortality. Never. It was their little secret.

"Come on, Lucy," Peter tugged on his sister's pink blouse, "Don't want you to get lost back there."

"Don't worry, Peter, I'm coming." How easy it was for them to be children again. Then again, years of practice might have had something to do with it. Well, that and the fact that they were all still children at heart.

"Hey!" Speaking of children, a voice that sounded remarkably like Edmund called up ahead of the two. "Let go of me! I know how to get onto a train by myself. Let go!" Well, what do you know, it was Edmund.

Susan, it appeared, was tugging him along by his t-shirt and was helping him up the train steps, much more relaxed and with an amused smile on her face. "Yes Edmund, because you demonstrated that so well this morning."

A deep red flush graced the younger king's cheeks. "That was not my fault! The step was way too close to the ground and too far away!"

Actually, the step had not been in any way too low or too far away. The truth was that Edmund, still not used to his new shorter stature, was still walking like a man twice his height and therefore wasn't very good at measuring distances.

The memory still caused Peter and Lucy's chests to swell with laughter.

"Oh, buck up, Ed," The older boy teased, coming up behind the two with Lucy in tow, "At least we were the last ones on the train. Well, except for the other people waiting on the platform."

"Oh, haha, Peter, very funny," Came the rather sardonic reply the former High King was expecting. "At least I didn't over estimate my strength and cause my trunk to fall on me."

The smile the blond wore fell into a slight lip-curl, remembering the unfortunate events of that morning. "It was five thirty a.m., I was half asleep!"

"Well, so was I!"

"Doesn't count."

"What?! How come it counts for you, but not me?!"

But just as Peter was about to reply, he found a rather smooth hand covering his mouth. Following the hand up to an arm and then the arm up to a face, Peter soon met the eyes of his not-so-gentle sister.

"Gentlemen," The term was used lightly, I assure you, "Can you please stop your bickering for one moment until we are settled on the train."

"Bickering?!" Was the dual reply and Peter and Edmund were once more on the same side.

"Um, we do not bicker!" Edmund told her, waving his hand back and forth between his brother and himself in emphasis.

Susan raised an eyebrow. "…Mmhm." The nod of her head said she really didn't believe them for a minute.

"We don't!"

"Of course." Lucy smiled, following her sister down the train's corridor looking for an empty compartment.

"Really!"

Both girls nodded their heads seriously, "We believe you." No they didn't.

"Oh, look!" Susan exclaimed, cutting off another one of Edmund's attempts, "Here's one."

The compartment was indeed empty and, as it was right at the end of the train, was a tiny bit larger than most of the other ones. Opening the door, Susan led her siblings inside, leaving the luggage for her brothers to lift.

"Um, Susan," A grunt from Edmund caused her to look at the aforementioned brothers, "A little help!"

Hands on her hips, the girl smiled, "What, not strong enough?"

"Very funny, Su!" She heard Peter reply, although his face was hidden by both her's and Lucy's trunks.

Lucy giggled. "You know, lifting one at a time might help." There was more grumbling as both boys set the two trunks down and maneuvered them each up on the rack one at a time.

"There, now was that so hard?" Susan teased, sharing a look with her younger sister. The looks they got from their brothers were a bit different. "Oh come on, you mean to tell me that you can lead armies into battle at the ages of ten and thirteen, but you can't lift four trunks onto a rack when you're two-thousand and some years old?"

Edmund glared, flexing his arms. "These old bones aren't meant for lifting, Su." Okay, even Peter laughed at that one, and soon even Edmund cracked a grin.

Finally settling down in their seats, they continued to talk, watching as the English countryside began to blur, vaguely wondering when the train had started moving. It was maybe an hour later, hour and a half at most, that anything of any note happened. As it was, the siblings had just bought what many would believe to be the entire food trolley, when a noise from outside broke them away from their chatter and munching.

It sounded remarkably like petty fighting and, in any other circumstance, the four wouldn't have paid it all that much attention, but sometimes names have more weight than people realize. In consequence, upon hearing the words "Potter" and "Malfoy" said in such reviled tones, it really would have been a challenge for the Pevensies to turn a deaf ear.

After all, they had watched the two boys grow up.

Getting up from his seat, Peter reached to open the locked door when Susan's hand gripped his wrist. He turned to look at her and stopped when he saw the urgency in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, eyes darting back and forth between her brother and the door. "Are you trying to stand out?"

Peter sent her a significant look. "We're not going stand out anyway once we reach the school?"

"…Well…"

"Come on, Su, I'm just going to go break things up before they get messy." His look softened at her resistance. "Don't worry, I won't be long."

Arms crossed and face tense, the older queen relented, "…Fine."

Opening the lock, Peter stepped out into the corridor, very much aware of his younger siblings' eyes on him. As he left them behind and wandered further down the hall, he found that the noise was coming from a one of the larger compartments guarded by two burling hunks of flesh. If Peter's memory served him correctly, their names were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, although which was which he wasn't completely sure.

Oh, this was going to be _fun_.

Moving closer, fragments of the conversation made it to the former High King's ears. "…seem to have touched a nerve…" That sounded remarkably like Draco Malfoy. At the commotion it caused, Peter decided he assumed correctly. Well, time to step in.

Tapping the other blond on the shoulder, the fifteen-year old made his presence known. "Excuse me?"

The fight stopped and all eyes—both curious and condescending—turned to him. Luckily, after ruling a kingdom for over a decade, Peter was used to being the center of attention. Giving a polite smile, the cumulatively older blond gave the room a once over, taking in the situation. It would appear that Mister Malfoy liked to cause trouble. Ah, so much like his grandfather.

"Can we help you?" Draco's sneering wasn't lost in his voice, in fact, if anything, it was heighted. Still, Peter had dealt with the Tisroc and nothing could compare to him.

Flashing the blond another, if slightly sharper, smile, Peter replied, "Actually, I was wondering if I could help you?" They all appeared confused. Good, they could agree on something. "You all seem a bit out of sorts really. Is there a problem?"

"No, no," Hermione, he believed the girl's name was, spoke up, "No problem. Draco here was just leaving."

Said boy just turned his eyes on her and leaned against the door. "I didn't realize I listened to you, Mudblood." And once more, commotion reigned as both Harry and Ron stood up, pointing their wands at the pale Slytherin.

"Naughty, naughty Potter, Weasel." Draco mocked, very much aware of the hard stare the newcomer was giving him. "I'm unarmed."

Speaking up, Peter's voice was cool. "Well then, you had best leave before these two decide to take matters into their own hands." Crossing his arms, the former king waited, staring the boy down.

Seconds of tense silence ticked by and Draco seemed to squirm under Peter's eyes. After a moment, he straightened and stuck his chin out, trying to look taller and more imposing. "Come on, Crabbe, Goyle. Let's leave the Mudblood lovers to their fantasies." Laughing haughtily, yet nervously, the three stalked out of the compartment, avoiding the blond still standing with his arm crossed.

Once the Slytherins were out of the way, Peter let out a breath and uncrossed his arms, turning with an easy smile to look at the stunned Gryffindors (and one Ravenclaw). "Well," he laughed, "that was interesting."

"Um, yes, thank you, um…" Hermione trailed off, not knowing his name.

Pretending to be sheepish, the king rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, sorry, I'm Peter Pevensie."

"Pleasure to meet you." The sentiment was returned by the others in the compartment. "I don't think I've ever seen you around before. What house are you in?"

The others looked on curiously, but just as Peter was about to make something up to save his hide (from his sisters), Edmund burst into the compartment looking frazzled and annoyed.

"Peter! Save me! The girls are trying to make me put my robes on!" As his younger brother began to pull him from the compartment, Peter sent the Gryffindors and Luna an apologetic look.

"I apologize. It would appear my sisters are, ah, 'torturing' our brother, so I best be off before things get ugly." Edmund's grip got tighter and Peter found himself holding onto the edge of the door in order to keep a visual of the—now amused—students. "I'll see you all at the feast." And then they were gone, closing the door behind them.

Sighing, Peter turned to his younger brother in askance, "So, what are they doing to you now?" But instead of the moaning he was expecting, Edmund flashed him a brilliant smile and let go of his polo shirt.

"Nothing." Peter's jaw dropped and Edmund let out a laugh. "Susan just sent me to get you before you did something entirely stupid."

"Have you all no faith in me?"

"No." Peter growled at that, sending his brother an irritated look. Seriously, he got no respect anymore.

"There you are!' Said older sister exclaimed as soon as her brothers opened the door. Oh, her face was fierce. "You said you were going to go break up the fight. I didn't realize it would take you so long." Nervousness mixed with concern laced through her words and Peter turned soft eyes to his sisters.

"Don't worry, Su, they're just schoolchildren. It's not like they can really do anything."

"…We're schoolchildren now too, Peter." She whispered as they all took their seats. "We can only do as much as they."

* * *

"Well, he seemed nice." Hermione said, stroking Crookshanks' fur.

"Nice?!" Ron exclaimed enthusiastically, "Did you see how terrified Malfoy was? He was bloody brilliant!"

Loony Luna Lovegood looked up from her magazine, stating dazedly that she found him to be quite charming, before burying her face once more in _The Quibbler_.

"He was quite helpful," Neville said, looking up from his plant.

Hermione nodded, distracted. "I wish we could have learned what house he was in, though. He looked like he was our age, but I've never seen him before."

"Well, Hogwarts isn't exactly small, 'Mione," Ron stated through his chocolate frog, "I see new people everyday."

"He didn't seem to even know who we were," Hermione stated, appearing not to have even heard Ron. "Most people aren't alarmed to see Harry and Malfoy fight, but he didn't seem to know either of you." She nodded to Harry, and the younger boy had to admit that she did have a point.

"Maybe he's new," Ginny said, having enjoyed watching the previous encounter immensely.

"But Hogwarts doesn't accept transfers, so he can't be new." As Hermione pondered on this newest mystery, the others just agreed to agree that Peter Pevensie seemed like a very nice person.

"I've never even heard his name before…" Hermione continued speaking, but by that time the others had moved onto other matters. Harry, for example, was simultaneously trying to remember where he had seen Peter and his brother's faces before, while also trying to make sense of Malfoy's use of the word "dogging" from earlier.* Did Malfoy know about Sirius? Was Sirius in trouble?

Thoughts such as these plagued Harry for the rest of the trip to school, even through changing into their school robes and collecting their luggage for departure. He was vaguely aware of Hermione and Ron leaving to supervise the younger grades, but as soon as his feet hit the platform and he lifted his head to see through the rain, the Boy Who Lived caught sight of Peter Pevensie with his brother and whom Harry assumed were his sisters.

They actually posed quite a pretty picture in the rain. There were four of them and all of them were in school robes, but Harry was too far away to see the House emblems. Peter and the younger girl had fairer hair that the other two, with blond and red respectively, while, what Harry assumed were the middle two, both appeared to have dark hair. Truly, while good-looking, they were still quite normal.

But there was something else about them, something that just seemed to scream out for others to take notice of them. As it would appear, Harry wasn't the only one to notice this because as he looked around, he found many students throwing glances at the four siblings. They just attracted attention and it was almost as if a spell had been cast on everybody. But then as soon as the spell took affect, it stopped, and Harry found himself holding Hedwig's cage securely in his arms.

"Alright there, Harry?" Luna's dreamy voice cut through the boy's mind and he turned to the girl, surprised to see her there.

He stuttered for something to say, feeling decidedly foolish, but all he managed to get out was a jumble of , "Ums," "yeses," and "sorry." He had never felt more embarrassed in his life. Thankfully, Luna wasn't the type of person to care about such things.

Peering around to see if the Pevensies were still there, he found himself standing basically alone on the platform, save for Neville, Luna, and Ginny.

"Come on, Harry, let's go before all the carriages are gone." Ginny tugged on his arm and moved him along the platform towards the congregation of people clamoring towards the gates.

Still looking around to see if they were there, Harry turned to her and gave her only a half-hearted response, "Coming."

They were gone.

* * *

"And of course we couldn't take the nice warm carriages."

"Edmund, don't you even start." Surprisingly, it was Lucy that cut off her brother's almost rant. "We realize that nothing we do is going to be normal, so don't even begin to complain."

Susan sent he sister an approving nod from her place behind the younger boy. "Thank you, Lucy." Turning to her brother and taking in his flabbergasted face, Susan began to remind him of one of their conversations. "Now, Edmund, what did we say on the train?"

Crossing his arms and sighing, Edmund reiterated his siblings' instructions. "Don't complain about magic, don't make fun of the teachers, don't mention anything that might make someone suspicious, and, I quote ,"for the Love of Aslan, Edmund, don't steal other peoples' Magic!" Yada, yada, blah, blah, I know."

"Well, except for that last bit, yes, you're right." Even with her arms crossed, Susan still had a twinkle of bemusement in her eyes. She could never stay angry with Edmund for too long; a day at most.

Laughing as his little brother stuck out his tongue, Peter said, "Alright, now that you're all done I think it's time we find the Great Hall."

"What do you mean by 'find?" Lucy raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, looking at her older brother in askance.

"Well, um, you see…"Peter trailed off, almost cowing under his siblings' sudden looks of intensity.

Hands back on her hips, Susan grated out, "You don't remember where it is?"

"Well…" The looks intensified. "No."

"Oh, for the Love of-! Peter!" Susan threw her hands up into the air in exasperation. "Of all the times to mention this, you choose now? We could have followed the children in the boats!"

"Hey, don't worry, Su. It shouldn't be that hard to find."

"This coming from the guy who got lost in his own room during our first week at Cair Paravel," Edmund muttered to Lucy under his breath. The younger queen tried to hide her giggle behind her hand, but Peter heard her anyway.

Giving the girl a mild glare, he turned back to a still irate Susan. "Come on, Su. It's on the main floor so all we have to do is follow the stairs up."

"The last time we followed your directions we got lost and were almost killed," She responded dryly.

"Well, it's not like we can be killed here." He gestured to the hallway.

Eyebrow raised, Edmund said, "Notice how he didn't say we couldn't get lost."

"We're not going to get lost." Peter finalized and turned around, very meticulously avoiding his siblings' disbelieving looks.

They would believe it when they saw it.

* * *

"We're lost."

"We are not lost."

"We. Are. Lost!"

"No, we are not!"

"Yes, we are!"

"No, we're not!"

"Yes. We are."

"No. We are no-"

"Boys!" The yell caused both boys to turn away from each other and towards their two sisters. Both girls looked ready to burst from annoyance and the crossed arms weren't helping the picture.

"What?"

Lucy sighed and gave them a hard look. "Peter, we are lost. Edmund, shut up."

"But, Lucy-"

"No buts, Edmund." The look she gave him would have stopped the White Witch dead in her path. "We all know that we're lost. It's not fair to rub it in to Peter."

"Lucy, I told you, we are not-"

Susan cut him off, "Peter, don't you dare finish that sentence." She pointed her finger at him and jabbed at his chest. "Now, what is the definition of 'lost'?"

The older boy gave an exasperated sigh. "Susan..."

"Peter. Definition."

He sighed again, but did as she told. "Lost is when you are unable to find your way or don't know where you are. But, Susan-"

"Where are we?" She demanded, causing her brother to give a slight growl.

"We're in a corridor." He crossed his arms, daring her to continue.

Susan, however, wasn't about to back down. She had lived with her siblings long enough to know how to get them to do what she wanted. "That's not very specific, Peter. This is a castle, ergo, it is filled with corridors. Now, where are we?"

"…"

"That's what I thought," She spat out, hands resting on her hips. Really, Susan loved her brother dearly, but he had a stubborn streak the size of the Tisroc's ego.

"It doesn't mean we're lost." He stated weakly, looking away from his siblings' incredulous faces.

"Peter, if we don't know where we are, we are lost." Edmund growled out, irritated at his brother's stubbornness. Gesturing around the area, he continued, "We don't know where we are, as such, we are lost! Now, please," Here he put his hands together in a praying sign, as if pleading with his brother, "let us ask one of the **talking** portraits for directions!"

For the briefest of moments, his sisters forgot their anger at their eldest brother to turn questioning glances towards the younger. "You want to ask directions, Ed?"

"Susan, I am tired, I am hungry, and my head really hurts!" He whined, looking vaguely like a kicked puppy. "I just want to eat and go to bed. So please Peter, just ask for directions!"

Peter, while his stubborn streak may have been as large as the Tisroc's ego, had a protective streak that was even larger. So, when he saw that Edmund wasn't just being melodramatic, he forced away his tenacity and once again embraced the 'overprotective-big-brother mode.' No matter what, his siblings' comfort came first.

Letting his features soften, Peter replied, "Alright Ed, but we have to find a portrait first."

Smiling and turning her head to look around, Lucy said, "I think I remember seeing one down that way. He was laughing at us, I believe."

"That's always nice to know," Her eldest brother said sardonically. "Well, we might as well go and ask. Come on, then." He motioned to the group and grabbed Lucy's hand, starting to lead them all back down the corridor.

A few moments later, the group stopped in front of a large portrait of a rather short old wizard who must have been drunk because he simply couldn't stop laughing. Luckily enough for them, the wizard was accompanied by a vaguely annoyed old witch.

"Um, excuse me?" Lucy called out, trying to be heard over the laughter. "Excuse me!"

The old man looked around, trying to find the source of the outside noise while also trying to calm his own laughter. Unfortunately, he was only looking from side to side and forgot to look down. Ergo, he missed Lucy. "What's that? Peeves! Haha! You get over here now you Son of a Merlin's Arse! Hahaha! I know you're there!"

"Um, I'm not Peeves," The little girl shouted again, luckily catching the eye of the old witch now clutching a frying pan.

The witch in turn used said frying pan to get the attention of the drunken wizard, using it probably in a way that wasn't so much for its intended purpose but was effective nonetheless. "You doddering old prune! Look down!"

Rubbing the bruise currently growing on his head (if paintings could, in fact, get a bruise), the old man turned to look at the woman with a fierce glare, all laughter gone. "Will you stop doing that, woman!?"

"I will stop when you learn to be responsible! Now look down! There are children here for Merlin's sake!" She sent him a withering look before completely transforming and sending the bewildered four a charming smile. "How can we help you, dearies?"

"Well, uh…" Peter didn't really know what to say, slightly shocked by the events that had just transpired in front of him.

"Speak up, lad, I can't hear you!" The thin man exclaimed. All his loud laughing had probably damaged his ears.

Whacking him again with the pan, the old witch yelled, "You can't hear when someone's yelling in your ear, you old coot!"

"Stop that! Will you let me finish a sentence, woman!?" The man got up from his seat of furs and proceeded to try and make himself look taller. It really didn't matter though, no matter how tall he tried to be, the woman the four assumed was his wife was still more intimidating.

Hitting him again, she replied, "Only when you learn to say something of value! Now be nice to the kind children and answer their questions!"

"Alright, alright, just don't hit me again!" He bellowed, guarding his head with his arms in defense of the ominous frying pan. Still, as the pan was lowered, he turned to the four with crossed arms, looking grumpy. "Humph, so what do you need?"

"Well," Susan began, cautiously looking at her siblings, "We were wondering if you could point us in the direction of the Great Hall?"

"The Great Hall?" The witch looked startled. "Don't the carriages take you right up to the front doors these days?"

The portrait people looked on in amusement as the younger three children looked at the eldest in slight annoyance. "Under normal circumstances, yes, they do, but due to extenuating events we missed the carriages and had to find an alternate route of transportation," The eldest girl grated out, "And I'm afraid we don't quite know where we ended up."

The elderly witch smiled, the paint around her mouth cracking a bit. "Well, with a story like that how can we not help you?" The four laughed a little. "Now, currently you are all in the dungeons."

"The dungeons?" Edmund exclaimed, turning a hard look towards his older brother. The news wasn't helping his headache as dungeons still brought up bad memories for the not-boy. "How in the world did we end up in the dungeons? We were going up."

Susan (getting really tired of feeling annoyed), just sighed, "Well, apparently we didn't go up enough."

For his part, Peter looked a little sheepish, feeling really bad about leading them all there. Still, leave it to Lucy to make him feel better. "It's okay, Peter, you tried."

Smiling softly, he shook her hand slightly from where he was still gripping it. "Thanks, Lu."

"Oh, you're all so sweet!" The witch in the painting cried out, looking as if she had just seen the cutest newborn baby while also bringing the Pevensies' attention back to the crisis at hand. "If I could, I would just bundle you all up and keep you!"

"Uhh, thank you?" Lucy sort of questioned, both flattered and slightly scared at the same time.

"Oh, you're welcome dearie." She smiled, holding her frying pan to her heart like it was a bouquet of flowers all the while ignoring her husband's gagging noises. "Now, where was I, again?" Susan opened her mouth to remind her, but closed it when the woman started speaking again, "Oh right, well, you're currently in the dungeons, just a few paces from the Slytherin Common Room actually, and all you have to do is go over to those stairs and climb up two flights. Then, you have to make a left at the one-eared wizard and go up one more flight. After that, walk down the corridor to the left and make three right turns before making a left at the stature of Barnabas the Barmy. Then, you should go up another three flights of stairs when they're all facing the north direction, except the last, which should be facing west. Finally, you should come to large hallway. Follow that for about five minutes and make a right. The Great Hall should be right there."

By this point, the four royals were completely lost seeing as the witch had talked about a mile a minute, leaving no time for them to retain any of the information. In conclusion, they were going to die in the dungeons.

"Ah, thank you, but would you mind saying that a bit slower? Please." Susan said slowly, taking in Edmund's growing look of pain from the headache with concern.

"Of course, honey." She smiled again, oblivious to their dilemma. "Go over to those flight of stairs-" She was cut off by a grumbling voice in the direction of the painted chair.

"Oh, will you shut up!" It would appear that the old wizard was through with her yapping and was ready to take matters into his own hands, "Can't you see you're confusing them?"

"I most certainly am not!" Her grandmotherly demeanor melted away and she looked ready to hit the man again.

"Yes, you are!" He yelled back at her, "Why don't you just let them through the passageway so they can actually make it to the Hall before next spring?"

"But they need the password!"

"Since when has that stop you?"

Fact: the woman in the portrait had the horrible habit of letting people she liked through the passageway without asking for the password.

Sputtering, she replied, "Oh, that is complete barmy!"

"Right."

Huffing and glaring at her spouse, the witch crossed her arms and turned away, not willing to admit that he was correct.

"Pardon me, Ma'am, but what passageway?" Peter asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence had passed.

However, it was not the woman that answered, but the old man. "Well, you see lad, behind our painting is a passageway that leads from this corridor to the Hieroglyphic Hall, which is one flight below the Great Hall. If you go through there, you'll end up near two statues of a Centaur. In between those statues is a blank wall, which will open up into a narrow stairwell when the correct password is uttered. That stairway will lead you directly into the trophy room, which is connected to the Great Hall," Here the wizard let out a nervous sort of laugh, much different from the drunken one he had earlier, "Course, there is the slight problem of getting to your House tables without being noticed, but well…" He trailed off.

Really though, it only took the four children a moment to decide. "We'll take it!"

"But-but, you need the password!" The old wizard cried out, jumping up from his chair and waving his arms about.

Not even a second later, the ominous frying pan was gracing his head as his wife started yelling at him for being so unkind to children. "You ungrateful little pig! These children come to you asking for help and you're ready to turn them away?! I mean, just look at those sweet little faces!" At this point, you must become aware that Lucy had put on her sweetest and most desperate puppy-dog face, enlarging her eyes and making them start to tear up. "How could I have married someone so cruel as to turn away sweet innocent children?!"

"But-but…I-" He stuttered out, clearly shocked and in pain.

"I mean really!" She huffed and turned back to the stunned Pevensies. Pasting on a tired and worn smile, she said to them, "Now, in you go children. The password to the blank wall is 'Starlight,' so it shouldn't be that hard to remember." Then, with a wave of her hand, the portrait opened up to reveal a narrow passageway leading upwards. "Well, here you are, and if you ever need help just ask any ghost or portrait for Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, okay?" She smiled again.

"Flamel?" Lucy whispered as she and her siblings stared at the couple with eyes too old for such young people. For the first time that night, the two in the painting were unnerved.

"Um, yes…" Perenelle trailed off, but as soon as the looks started getting too uncomfortable the children smiled again, setting everything at ease.

"Well," Lucy said, climbing into the hole in the wall, "It was very nice to meet you both and we thank you very much for helping us."

Stuttering slightly, Nicholas replied in kind, "It was nice making your acquaintance as well…" He waved his hand as if physically asking for the children's names.

"Oh, right, I'm Susan Pevensie," The older girl said abashedly while nodding to her siblings as they entered the passage, "This is my older brother Peter, and our younger siblings Edmund and Lucy." She smiled at the people's stunned faces as if she didn't even notice them.

"Susan, come on!" Lucy called from inside the tunnel and the dark haired girl turned to enter.

"Coming!" Giving the stunned couple a Narnian curtsy, Susan began to climb in. Before she disappeared though, she turned back to call out a thank you. A moment later, the portrait was closed and the children gone.

The dungeon hallway was quiet for a moment as the adults attempted to collect themselves.

After a few seconds, Nicholas turned to his wife and they both fell into the fur chairs. "Did she say 'Pevensie'?"

Silence.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was no stranger to violence, nor was he unfamiliar with hatred. Still, the look that the boy on the train had given him unnerved the pure-blood. It wasn't just because the other boy was obviously a 'Mudblood-lover,' but more because the look was so eerily familiar that it sent chills up the Malfoy heir's back.

Not only that, but for the briefest moment while he was leaving Potty's compartment, his eyes had locked on another boy with darker hair. Those eyes were even more familiar and the blank, bordering on disapproving, look the younger boy had given him more than frightened Draco; it had absolutely terrified him.

He had tried repeatedly throughout the train ride and the ride up to the castle to forget about the looks and the fear they had caused, but no matter what he tried, the memory always came back. A part of him believed that the looks were even worse than that of his father's.

But the looks weren't the worst part, on no, that would just be too simple. The worst part was that every time he thought about the boys or the way they had practically seen through him, his Book glowed.

Yes. Glowed.

And it wasn't just his Book that did it either. When he told Pansy and Blaise about it their Books began to glow as well, with a bright fiery gold that almost blinded them. It was unnerving and horrible and Draco really just wished he could go back to last year when everything was slightly normal. Such was the reason that when the Malfoy heir entered the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast, a part of him silently prayed he would never see either boy again.

The other half wished he would.

* * *

"It's so pretty!"

"Lucy, keep it down." Susan shushed, while at the same time trying not to shout out the very same words.

The chamber they were in was practically covered in gold and, while not as spectacular as the treasure room of Cair Paravel, it was still quite amazing. Trophies, medals, ribbons, and plaques of all kinds littered the room, while magical sunlight made everything in the room shimmer. Susan vaguely felt the urge to take away the Magic from the room just to see what it would look like in the moonlight. If doing so wouldn't have taken the Magic away from the entire castle, she just might have done it, too.

Turning around to gaze at her siblings, Susan found to her amusement that Lucy was taking the time to twirl about the room, letting her black school robes fan about her legs as she took in the chamber's warmth. Peter seemed to ready to join her, if not for the pure joy of doing so, then at least just to keep the little girl smiling. Well, that was Peter for you, always working to get a smile out of his siblings.

And Edmund…

…Edmund did not look well.

Losing the smile that had been growing on her face at Lucy and Peter's acts of childishness, the older girl slowly made her way over to the only member of their family not currently admiring the Trophy Room.

Placing a warm hand on his shoulder, the girl took a seat next to him and whispered, "Ed?"

Drooping eyes and a pale face made her almost reel back in shock. What had started out as a headache seemed to have grown worse. "Edmund, what's wrong?" She grabbed his face gently in order to get a better look at him.

By this point, Peter and Lucy had noticed something wrong and had joined the other two over by the door leading to the Great Hall. Peter, who was especially protective of his brother, rested a hand on the younger boy's other shoulder. "Edmund?"

The younger king turned dark brown eyes to his older brother and whispered faintly, "It's really cold, Peter. Really cold." He stressed the last part as if trying to tell them something important.

Still, it wasn't enough. "What do you mean, Ed? It's warm in here." The three other siblings traded concerned looks. Trust Edmund to be abnormal, but, then again, he had always been the most sensitive to Magic, especially Dark Magic.

"No, Peter. It's really cold." There was something about the way he said 'It's' that really made his siblings' bones chill. It was something…foreboding.

"What's cold, Edmund?" Lucy whispered, almost scared to know the answer. She knew he wasn't referring to the room.

She was right. Almost mechanically, the younger of her two brothers turned his head slowly towards the left where there was a list of Awards for Services to the School. From where the children were sitting, they could just make out the name of **Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Jr.** engraved on one of the plaques.

It was to this award that Edmund raised a shaking hand and pointed at. "_It's cold_."

So it was.

For some reason, the chamber seemed darker now and the gold no longer shimmered as it had. It was as if their little brother's words had effectively sucked out all the life in the room.

"…It's just a plaque, Ed." But Peter's voice shuddered anyway, the memories of the Dark boy invading his mind like very few things ever had before. "It's just a plaque."

Still, as the three siblings held the younger boy to try and keep the cold away, none of them could really shake the sense of imminent danger that had encased them. Nobody was safe, nobody would make it out unscarred, nobody-

"Your Majesties!?" A shocked voice broke them out of their reveries and back into the real world. Spinning around, the four children turned to see the stunned face of one Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, more commonly known as Nearly-Headless Nick. "Your Majesties, what are you doing here?"

Untangling themselves from one another, the children stood so as to look more presentable in front of such an old acquaintance. You see, when a person dies—as Sir Nicholas had done so many years earlier—yet refuses to cross over, their soul goes under the jurisdiction of the Grey Area, a.k.a the Pevensies, until they are ready to move on. As such, the ghosts (and paintings containing part of a persons' soul) at Hogwarts were very much aware of who these children were.

That would be a problem.

"Sir Nicholas!" Lucy jumped up to hug the ghost (for unlike normal people, the Pevensies could do that). "Oh, it's been so long!"

Nicholas, who was quite plainly stunned, could only reply with a, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Letting go of the ghost, the little girl pouted. "Oh, none of that, Nicholas. While we're here, we must simply be the Pevensies. Can't let anyone get suspicious, you see." Then, a smile lit up her face. "Besides, we're friends."

"But, Milady-" Susan cut the ghost off with a firm, yet gentle, command.

"Please Nicholas, if you must treat us with respect make it seem as if it is just because we are Albus' grandchildren. Please, it will make our time here much easier." What could the ghost do, but obey. Even on Earth, nobody ever wanted Queen Susan to be upset.

"Of course, Mila-" A stern look, "Miss Susan," He amended, and the older girl smiled.

Peter, with his arm still around Edmund, gave the ghost a small nod. "If you could, Sir Nicholas, would you please spread the word to the other ghosts and portraits? We would greatly appreciate it."

Nicholas nodded in respect. "Of course, My Lo- Master Peter." He fixed himself just at the last minute. "Shall I inform the Headmaster of your presence or is he already aware?"

The siblings shared a look and Peter gave Edmund's arm a gentle squeeze. "If you would inform him, we would be most grateful." The ghost nodded and began to turn back to follow their orders when Peter called out to him again.

"And Sir Nicholas!" The ghost turned to see small smiles on the faces of The Four. "'Tis good to see you again, friend."

The ghost smiled and left the Pevensies alone once more.

Suddenly feeling very alone, the four gathered around the fireplace and went back into their little cluster, skillfully avoiding the temptation to glance at the plaque that had so frightened them. Distantly, they could hear the sound of the Sorting Hat finishing Its song and the students clapping in appreciation. Yet still, they didn't move from their places. They would know when it was time to make themselves known, but now was not it; now they just needed to be together.

Still, as Susan smoothed down her younger brother's unruly hair, she couldn't help but think about Edmund's frightened eyes as he had pointed at the ominous award.

Susan couldn't remember the last time she had felt so cold.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was pleased. Very, very pleased.

For one, he finally knew where his grandchildren were. Secondly, he knew that they weren't planning some giant, over-the-top entrance like he had expected (from Edmund). And third, Dolores Umbridge hadn't bothered him all day.

Yes, he was very well pleased indeed.

Such was that when Rose Zeller was finally sorted into Hufflepuff, the Headmaster had a very large smile on his face. It was with this smile, in fact, that he stopped Minerva from removing the hat and stool. Let it be known that a small part of him took great delight in seeing her shocked face.

He might have forgotten to mention the Pevensies to the rest of the staff. Whoops.

Turning to the whispering students, who by now were very curious as to why the hat was still up there and why there was no food on their plates, Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands.

"To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands—welcome back!* While normally I would let you all dig into the scrumptious food the House Elves have prepared, I am afraid there are still a few more students left to be sorted." He waited patiently for the shocked conversations to die down before he continued, "As I am sure most of you are unaware, four children will currently be joining our school. While they had been invited at the required ages, their parents wished for them to be tutored at home, but due to extenuating circumstances they will be attending the school from now on."

Whispers broke out in the Hall once more. Never before had this happened. Ever. It was simply unheard of.

Raising his hands for silence, the old man continue, "Now, please join me in welcoming, not only four new students, but four children very dear to my old heart. Allow me to introduce to you, my great-great-grandchildren: Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie!"

And the doors by the Head Table opened.

* * *

Well, what do you all think? Twenty-seven pages! Wow, that's a record for me. Please **review**, but **don't flame**. Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated as I want to become a better writer, but flames don't help. I hope you all enjoyed it and that I've left you wanting more (and given you even more questions).

First (*)=See Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling, chapter 10, page 194, paragraph 8.

Second (*)= Quote taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling, chapter 11, page 208, paragraph 5.

Thank you and have a lovely rest of the week!

BYE!

--TimeMage0955


	4. Pevensie

Hey everyone, so here is the second chapter of _To Judge the Lost_. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they make me so happy. I hope this lives up to your expectations and keeps you wanting more.

Now, this chapter is currently un-beta-ed so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. If anyone who's good at grammar would like to beta for me I would greatly appreciate it.

To let you all know, this is not a story about romance. The furthest it will probably go are with hints and small kisses here and there. It is more focused on the mystery and morality of the Pevensies in the Wizarding World and how they help prepare people for the war.

So thank you everyone and ENJOY!

* * *

**To Judge the Lost**

**Chapter 3: Pevensie**

The Hall was absolutely silent. There were no whispers, no shuffling of feet, and it was even difficult to tell if the people were still breathing. Dumbledore's final announcement hung over the students like a cloud and they all sat there waiting for the old man to finally admit he was off his rocker. He didn't. The headmaster just stood at the podium with a large, proud smile on his face, looking for all the world like nothing could possibly be wrong.

The students and staff begged to differ.

Dumbledore was not married. He did not have children, nor did he have grandchildren, and he most certainly did not have great-great-grandchildren. It just was not possible. No way, no how, not ever.

Still, the little girl running out of the Trophy Room did have a certain familiar twinkle in her eyes.

Maybe…

"Grandfather!"

Well, that answered that.

The silence seemed to grow even denser as the child practically tackled the old man into a large bear hug. Dumbledore, smiling brightly, let out a deep laugh of surprise and joy and hugged the little girl in return. It was a very sweet moment, but honestly the rest of the school was still trying to comprehend the situation, so the cuteness was mostly lost on them.

"Lucy!" Another call from the adjacent room sounded throughout the Hall and a pretty raven-haired girl raced out. If the redhead had been the epitome of everything sweet and innocent, then the older girl was the quintessence of everything beautiful and lovely. Many boys in the Hall had a hard time keeping their jaws attached to the rest of their mouths.

Still, it didn't appear as if the older girl was all looks if the way she held herself was any indication. "Lucy Ann Pevensie!" Or in the way she talked. _Like a mother_, many thought, some with a smile and others with a cringe depending on the personality. "Lucy, what have we told you about running off? And it really isn't a good idea to be so forceful, either." Seeing the hands placed on her hips, the school marveled at how sheepish the Headmaster and the little girl looked.

"Sorry, Susan." The girl named Lucy didn't look very sorry at all to the rest of the crowd in the Hall, but she was just cute enough to get away with it.

Before Susan could open her mouth to reply though, a deep laugh echoed from the Trophy Room and two boys entered the Hall, the fair-haired one's hand on the darker one's shoulder. "Come on Su, Lucy didn't do anything wrong. She's just excited." The blond one spoke with a smile, his voice pleasant and warm. The younger boy smiled too, but it was much smaller and didn't seem to really reach his eyes. He didn't look very well actually.

Attention shifted back to the older girl who was now crossing her arms. "I know that Peter, but she has to be more careful." She sighed and turned to look at the younger girl with a stern but gentle eye. "And no running off, either."

Lucy giggled at that, even under her sister's stern look. "I thought running off was Edmund's job?" She turned a wry look to the younger of her brothers as Susan and Peter grinned slightly at the boy's reddening face. It might have just been the timing, but the rest of the school felt as if they had just stumbled into an unspoken family joke.

"Yes, well," Susan continued, her voice much lighter with the sound of hidden amusement. "We can't do much about Edmund, but you're still salvageable." Here she did let out a slight laugh upon seeing her brother's indignant face.

"I'm not that bad!" He yelled, causing his siblings to look at him with raised eyebrows. "…Most of the time." He finished weakly, and his siblings grinned.

"Of course not, Ed." Peter chuckled and tightened his grip on his brother's slightly shaking shoulder. Ignoring his instinct to instantly bring his brother to the infirmary, he instead turned to look up at Albus, albeit with a slightly smaller smile. "Hello, Grandfather. We're sorry for the delay."

Dumbledore chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the eyes boring into the back of his head. "It's fine, Peter. I trust getting here was easy?" His smiled grew at the irate expressions currently gracing the younger three children's faces.

"Oh yes, very easy." Sarcasm dripped from Edmund's voice, so much so that despite himself, Severus Snape was impressed. "We just had to take a few detours."

"Oh?" The professor sounded amused and his eyes twinkled merrily.

Edmund nodded. "Yes. You see Peter here had the bright idea of-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Edmund, or so help me I will-" But then Peter's cut off was halted by the dainty hand of his gentle sister.

"Don't **you** finish that sentence, Peter. It's not nice to threaten your younger brother." She sent him a significant look and her older brother started at her in indignant amusement.

"This coming from the girl who's constantly threatening him." Lucy and Edmund smothered snorts when Susan couldn't find a comeback—it was true after all.

Their grandfather coughed to get their attention. "Well, it would appear as if you've all had quite the adventure already. You'll have to regale this story to me later."

"But of course, Grandfather," There was something in Lucy's smile that sent a chill down Peter's spine. "We wouldn't dream of keeping such a tale to ourselves."

"Lucy…" Her eldest brother's voice trailed off in an apprehensive reprimand. His sister just giggled.

It was at this moment that the Headmaster turned back to look at the still shocked students, sparkles dancing in his eyes. "Now, how about we get on with the introductions and the sorting so we can all eat."

"Food!" Surprisingly, it wasn't just the Weasley twins that shouted that out, but Edmund Pevensie as well. The two redheads stared at the younger boy in shock, while said boy grinned at them.

"Heh, I think I could get along with them." His siblings shared wary looks over their brother's head before looking at their grandfather in apprehension. From what they knew about the twins, putting those two and Edmund in the same room together would be tantamount to chaos. It could not be allowed to happen.

"Ah, well, we'll see Edmund." It may have just been the lighting, but everyone in the Hall could swear that Dumbledore looked nervous. "Now, how about you introduce yourselves properly so we can get on with the sorting?"

"Sure!" Little Lucy stepped up with such a cheery smile on her face that even a few Slytherins felt their hearts melt. "My name is Lucy Ann Pevensie, I'm eleven years old and I'm going to be a first year." She stepped back then and turned to the paler of her brothers.

Edmund didn't step forward, but his eyes seemed to grow sharp and piercing. "My name is Edmund Pevensie, I'm twelve years old and I'm going to be a second year."

"And his middle name is Randall." Lucy laughed and Edmund turned to glare at her.

"Lucy!" He hissed. Edmund absolutely despised his middle name and took great lengths to ensure people didn't know it. Now, he would have to deal with an entire school aware of the damning curse that was his name.

He was just about to take some action against his giggling sister when Peter and Susan both gripped his shoulders tightly. "Edmund." He immediately calmed at the older girl's tone, but it didn't stop him from grumbling. His sister, ignoring the words, took her hand away and stepped forward to introduce herself.

"My name is Susan Rose Pevensie, I'm fourteen years old and I will be going into my fourth year." She moved back and looked up at her older brother.

Peter gave the rest of the school a warm smile and many of the girls felt their hearts begin to beat more rapidly. He was very cute. "My name is Peter Martin Pevensie, I'm fifteen years old and I will be attending fifth year classes."

Dumbledore grinned and clapped his hands a few times. "Very nice. Now, if you four will come over to the stool we'll find out what House you belong in."

"Yay!" Lucy jumped up in excitement. She had always wanted to do this.

Her grandfather laughed. "Would you like to go first, Lucy?"

She vigorously nodded her head and her siblings smiled brightly at her. "Oh yes, please!" That was Lucy for you, always on the move.

"Well then, just sit up here and I'll put the hat on your head." The little girl did as she was told and plopped down on the stool, bouncing as she did so in excitement.

When the hat was on her head, the students and teachers (including Dumbledore) marveled at how quickly the four Pevensies' expressions changed. One moment they were all smiles and joy and the next, nothing. There were no movements anymore from Lucy or her siblings and their faces were entirely blank.

Maybe if they had really known who The Four were they would have understood more. As it was, only Dumbledore had the slightest of assumptions, yet even his guesses were a bit off the mark.

Inside Lucy's head, the Hat began to speak, but it was not in Its normal voice. Indeed It spoke in such a way that none had heard the like since Its creation. For the first time in years, the Hat spoke in the Old Tongue.

_Queen Lucy the Valiant._ The tone was reverential and awe-filled. _It has been many years, my Queen._

Inside Her mind, Queen Lucy smiled. _Indeed, My friend. It has been a very long time. You have done well._

_My thanks, good Queen._ If It could, the Hat would have bowed. _Yet I fear that the splitting of Houses has caused more turmoil than it was meant to. My apologies._

_There is naught to apologize for, good My Hat. _The Queen soothed. _T'was not your decision to cause strife, young one._

The Hat chuckled_. Only Thee and Thine could get away with calling me that, Majesty._ They both laughed quietly inside Her head.

'_Tis true, Hat. Now, to where shall I be placed?_

_Your Majesty, I could place You in any House and You would make it Your home. _She felt the wry smile It was trying to send Her.

_True, My friend, yet I fear My Brothers would have strong opinions on certain Houses._ She smiled mentally at the thought and fought to keep it from appearing on Her face. _Best just to place Me in Hufflepuff so My Brothers do not worry. _

_Hufflepuff, Milady? You have always struck me as more of a Gryffindor. _

It was Queen Lucy's turn to give the wry look. _While true Gryffindor may highlight My more dominant aspects, Peter needs to go to there and We cannot have two Siblings in any one House. We must reach out to all the students. _Here she grew less serious. _Besides, I have always liked the Hufflepuffs and Helga was so kind to Me._

_Still traveling through Time, Ma'am?_ It asked lightly and Lucy mentally chuckled.

_Only when Aslan wills it, My friend, for We have not the power to travel on Our own. Nor even would We want to. Time is a fragile Thing, one We would not like to tamper with too much. Only when Aslan sends Us Back with a purpose do We do so._ Her thoughts turned slightly grim._ Of course, Grandfather knows naught of this. He still believes We do it Ourselves at will. Sometimes, these Gifts of Ours are more curse than blessing._

As if sensing the gravity of Her emotions, the Hat said, _Aye, my Queen, but if not for Them, I would not exist. _If the Hat had had eyebrows they would have been raised.

_I am sure the Founders would have thought of creating you anyway, even without Our suggestion. _She stated, smiling slightly.

The Hat smirked._ Thought of it, yes, but actually do it, maybe not._

_And are We ever glad they did._ She giggled again and Her dark thoughts slipped away into the deepest recesses of Her mind. _ Now, I do believe this conversation has gone on long enough. Until We have more time to talk, My friend._

_Until then, Milady. May Aslan watch Your steps and guard Your path during Your time in…_

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The yellow and black table erupted into applause. The whole conversation had only taken a few seconds.

The Pevensies' faces returned to normal and they all clapped and smiled as Lucy bounced off the stool and raced over to the table, skipping as she went. They had heard the entire conversation, but while they could not join in, they had agreed with everything their sister had said.

As the clapping lulled, Dumbledore looked at the other three and motioned for one of them to step forward. Surprisingly, it was Susan who took the initiative and she walked boldly up to the stool, delicately placing the hat onto her head.

Once more the school stared in wonder as neutrality overtook the expressions on the Pevensies' faces. The Hufflepuffs especially became uncomfortable as they now had a close up look of Lucy's face. It was eerie.

_Queen Susan the Gentle._ The Old Tongue was spoken again with reverence and joy. '_Tis an honor, Milady. _

_Indeed, good My Hat. I hope all is well with you? _She asked, always wanting to make sure that everyone and everything was doing well.

_As well as can be expected, my Queen. Yet I fear for the future. _Its tone was mournful and Queen Susan mentally nodded Her head in agreement.

_Your fears reflect so with Mine. _It was almost with a whisper that She thought this. _I fear for what the world will become and I fear what will happen to all the innocent caught up in this War. People who are not meant to will die, and My Heart pains for them. My Heart aches for those they will leave behind and for the experiences they will not have. Do you think it selfish of Me to wish that Aslan had never asked Us to speak of The Dark Book to Tom Riddle?_

The Hat mentally shook Its 'head'. _Nay, my Queen, for You are of gentle heart and caring mind. This, Aslan knows, and loves You for. He would not think You selfish, but would be proud of how much You care for those You do not know._

Queen Susan smiled and Her heart lifted a bit. _And He would be most proud of you, My friend, for all the good you have done and advice you have given. You have truly been blessed._

_My thanks, good my Queen. Your words bring great comfort to me. _It smiled. _Now, to determine which House You belong in. I believe the Queen Lucy proclaimed the High King was to take Gryffindor, correct?_

Queen Susan giggled. _Yes, good My Hat. Our Royal Brother has indeed lay claim to Gryffindor, and although Edmund might protest, I do not feel as if I would make it in Slytherin. Sly as I may be, My Younger Brother is much more…artistic in such aspects. _

The Hat also laughed, remembering a rather entertaining debate between the King Edmund and Salazar Slytherin. _Indeed, Gentle Queen. King Edmund does have a certain Slytherin flair, despite also possessing many of the other Houses' traits. _

_Very true, good Hat, very true_. She laughed and smiled again.

_Still, this only leaves Ravenclaw for You, Ma'am. Is that all right?_

She nodded. _But of course. Rowena and I used to have the most wonderful conversations. She was very logical and I always admired that about her. I may have only known her for a short time, but she was a great friend. It would be an honor to settle in her House. _

The Hat nodded once more and gave Her a gentle smile. _Very well then, Milady. May Aslan watch Your steps and guard Your path during Your time in…_

"RAVENCLAW!" The blue and bronze table broke out into applause and the Pevensies lost their neutral looks once more.

As Susan was taking off the hat to go join her table, she heard it speak once more to her and she paused.

_Do not fear, my Queen. You are strong and Aslan's faith has not been misplaced. You will do very well._

Her hands trembled, but a soft smile graced her face anyway. Yes, she could do it.

…_Thank you._ And with confidence, she pulled the hat off completely and walked proudly over to her table.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy watched her with happy eyes, having heard every word. _Oh Susan,_ they thought, _Gentle Queen Susan. You will do well, Sister._ For as overbearing and as nagging as she could be, Susan was their family, and they loved her for what she did. Ravenclaw was lucky to have her.

As if sensing something going on, the applause lasted a shorter amount of time, but when it did, the students' attention was once more on the dais. It was an amusing spectacle to be sure when they all saw Edmund pushing his brother over to the stool, grinning as he went.

"Edmund! Let go of me!" Peter laughed, digging his heals into the ground. "I do know how to walk, you know."

Edmund turned a sly grin up at his brother. "Yes, but you see, the problem is that you won't. You, with your overprotective big brother complex, will wait until the three of us are settled and sorted before doing so yourself."

"And what, Edmund, is so wrong with that?" He lifted an eyebrow and amusement danced in his eyes.

Edmund's grin turned down right creepy and his eyes glimmered with mischief. "Well, dear brother, you see I want to go last. That way you can't get to me in time to stop me from doing whatever I want."

"Edmund…" He trailed off warily. What was his little brother going to do? "You know that's not exactly going to make me want to go next, right?"

His brother's grin widened. "Too late, Pete! Have fun!" And he grabbed the hat out of his amused grandfather's hands and stuffed it onto Peter's head. The older boy didn't even have time to argue.

"Thanks, Ed." He said sarcastically and Edmund smiled, his pale face gaining only a slight bit of color.

"No problem!"

Shaking his head and vowing to get back at his little brother later for whatever it was he was planning on doing, Peter took a seat on the stool and let his face become neutral. His siblings followed suit.

_High King Peter the Magnificent._ The sound of the Old Tongue being spoken so freely and with such high esteem, made the eldest Pevensie want to cry out in joy. He had missed It. _Your Majesty, I am most pleased and honored to be in Your presence once more. It has been far too long._

King Peter smiled in His head. _Yes, friend. It has been a rather long time. You have been busy I see._

The Hat chuckled. _Indeed, my King. Busy cannot even begin to cover it. _They both laughed, entirely too knowledgeable on the many levels of 'busy' one can reach.

_Well, Sire, I do not believe I have to go over what House You will be in. Both the Queen Susan and the Queen Lucy have told me that Gryffindor was the one for You._ The Hat smiled as King Peter blushed inside His mind.

_They are correct, good friend. While any of My Siblings would probably do well there, I will be more easily able to observe Mr. Potter. _ He stated, but there was something else there that many probably would not have been able to pick up on.

The Hat, however, was not fooled. _And, of course, it would have nothing to do with the fact that You do not want either of Your Sisters to be anywhere near bold and brash Gryffindor boys, correct?_

The King blushed again, but smiled. _Well, maybe just a bit. And Aslan only knows what havoc Edmund would create if We put Him anywhere near the Weasley twins. _

_Aslan preserve Us! _ The Hat laughed at the thought. Truly, if King Edmund and the Weasley twins ever teamed up, the world would have more than Voldemort to worry about.

King Peter chuckled as well. _Exactly. So you see where I am coming from?_

_Indeed, Sire. Gryffindor seems to be the only likely choice. _

The King smiled._ Thank you, My friend. _Here the Royal grew grim. _If it is not too much to ask, will you do Me a favor?_

The Sorting Hat, sensing the change in mood, mentally nodded. _Of course, Your Majesty._

_Keep an eye on My grandfather and listen to the portraits. Aslan has warned Us of something, but as it is not Our story, He could tell Us no more than that. _Here His tone grew pleading. _Please, something is going to happen and it will not be good. _

Once again, if It could have, the Hat would have bowed. _It shall be done, Milord._

_Thank you. _He nodded mentally with all due solemnity. _Now, I do believe We have let the school stir long enough. How about We let them know what House you have deemed Me to enter? _There was joking in that tone, but the Hat was no fool and It could sense the underlying tiredness.

_Of course, Sire, but do not worry. Everything will be fine._ It soothed and the tiredness in Its King became more apparent.

The Lord's smile was grim. _And how do you know that?_

Chuckling, the Hat replied,_ I talked to the Queens first._ Here, King Peter's face did light up. The Girls had that effect on everyone.

_Now, my King, it is time for me to bid You farewell. May Aslan watch Your steps and guard Your path during Your time in…_

"GRYFFINDOR!" A huge round of applause came from the lion table and many of the students there stood up. They had gotten one of Dumbledore's great-great-grandchildren! It was almost like getting another Harry Potter!

Yet, as Peter took off the hat and let emotions return to his physical face, he sent a significant look towards his brother and sisters. The younger siblings nodded in understanding. Dark times were coming and they could only do so much. Still, when they covered up their tiredness with smiles, Peter turned on the balls of his feet and moved down to his table grinning. They could not let anyone know.

The clapping died down and Dumbledore turned to his younger grandson. In doing so, the old man almost wanted to turn away because Edmund looked like he was only seconds away from cackling madly. Only his siblings could see the strain in his face from the lingering headache.

Fighting back the urge to run, Albus smiled at the not-boy. "Well, Edmund, you're up." The smirk grew and the entire Hall felt on edge.

Picking up the hat and placing it on his head, Edmund let his face blank and he felt more than saw his siblings' faces do the same. Then, he let his mind take him and he grew oblivious to everyone else.

_King Edmund the Just._ Said Man heard the admiration in the Old Tongue. _It is a great honor to see You once more, my King._

_And you, good My friend. The years have passed quickly._ His voice was much more solemn than the joking one He had used earlier in public.

_Indeed they have, Sire. Yet, looking at You, one would never know._ The voice was soft, comforting and sad all at once.

King Edmund nodded. _Yes, but looks are not everything as I am sure you are aware. Looks can be deceiving and age is not always written with wrinkles and grey hairs. _His mental eyes grew sad.

_You do not speak falsehood, Sire. How old the young can be has never ceased to cause me pain. It is the damning truth, but truth all the same._ The Hat sighed in weariness.

_Yes, the damning truth. If only We could do more to let the young stay that way._ The King felt like crying.

The Hat turned sad eyes to the Man. _You are of Neutral Magic, Sire. You know that. _The Royal sighed deeply once more.

_I know, My friend, but that just makes everything harder. _His eyes looked too old to the Sorting Hat. _When We Vowed to Aslan that We would remain Neutral in Magical Conflicts, We did not know just how hard that would be._

The Hat nodded. _If it is any consolation, Milord, I feel the same way when I place a student. It goes against everything I believe in, to split students up, to make them enemies before they are allowed to know each other. It is a hard job, being a bystander._

The King gave a dry laugh. _I was a Judge. I was the Keeper of Right and Wrong. Now, I cannot help but feel like I am with Her again._

_Aye, Your Majesty. I never met Her and I am glad for the fact, but Aslan must have a plan. He would not have You as a Watcher if He did not. _

King Edmund's smile was wry. _Yes, but it is still hard to think that way when I see the Dark Ones I helped killing innocent people and hurting defenseless children. It makes Me feel dirty even._

_Aslan has a plan, my King. _It soothed, but It had a feeling that the words were of little comfort.

It was right. _That is all I feel I can cling to anymore. I just have to trust in Aslan that everything with turn out all right. _

They were silent for a moment and King Edmund could almost feel His siblings reaching out to Him. It made Him smile slightly to know that although They couldn't speak to Him right now, They were still there for Him.

Apparently, the Sorting Hat could sense Them too. _But You are not alone, Just King. Your Royal Siblings are here for You._

Said King nodded. _Yes, I know._

_And truly, Sire, only Aslan knows what may happen. As I learned when speaking with Queen Susan, We cannot know what will come to pass, so let Us deal with everything as they come._

The Man lifted an eyebrow and gave the Hat a wry smile. _You got all of that from talking to Susan?_

The Hat laughed knowingly. _Helping another face their fears does tend to make you face your own. _

_Really? Usually when I talk to Susan all I get is a holler. _Although the words were spoken matter-of-factly, they were also said with great affection.

_Ah, but remember, She is yelling at You out of love and concern, not anger. _It admonished lightly with a mental smile.

King Edmund might have agreed, but, _I do not know. It might depend on what She is yelling at Me for._

And the Hat began to laugh again. The younger King wasn't completely solemn after all._ Yes, but there is still love in there._

_If you say so. _King Edmund knew it was true, but still, for the sake of argument.

_Now, I do believe it is time to let Slytherin know about their newest member._ The mood grew dark once more. _King Edmund?_

The Just King was silent once more and his mind spoke of turmoil. _Are you alright, Your Majesty?_

…_I do not know, My friend. We were in the dungeons earlier and I saw the Slytherin wall. It hurt. _He felt His Siblings' emotions rise in concern. They knew seeing the plaque had done something to Him, but They hadn't known about the feeling He got from the House of Snakes. _It's strange too. When I am an adult, I am perfectly fine, but in this young body…_He trailed off.

_Perhaps the Slytherins can manage without You, Sire._ The Hat spoke with concern.

Yet still, the Just King shook his head. _No. If anyone is in need of Justice, it is the Slytherins. Besides many of them are Grey. I can help them. _

The Hat sighed, but conceded. _If that is Your wish, Sire, I will agree to it, but know that You are not alone. _

…_Thank you. _He whispered sincerely.

The Hat smiled gently. '_Tis my honor and privilege to help, Your Majesty. May Aslan watch Your steps and guard Your path during Your time in…_

"SLYTHERIN!" There was no clapping this time, everyone (except the Pevensies and Dumbledore) were in shock. Said Slytherin boy took off the hat with a broad smirk blossoming on his formerly blank face and, not minding the silence, sauntered over to his new House table and took a seat on the bench as if he owned it.

Lifting his head to meet his siblings' gazes, he saw past their smiles to view the concern in their eyes. They would be talking later, but now was not the time. As Edmund turned away from them, the school's attention shifted over to Dumbledore who was holding up his hands for silence (although truthfully there was no real need; the school was quiet already).

"Now that the all the sortings are finished," He waved his hand surreptitiously, causing the hat and stool to vanish back into his office. "I am sure you are all desperate for food." Appreciative laughter echoed throughout the school. "Now, there is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"*

The food began to appear along the tables and cheers went up from the students as Dumbledore sat down in his seat. Finally, they could eat! The Pevensies in particular stared at the food, having only seen this a few times before. It was like being back Home.

* * *

"Excellent," Ron said, sounding as if he hadn't had food in years. His plate was currently piled high with chops and he was completely ignorant of Nearly-Headless Nick's wistful looks. Peter was staring at Ron in disgust.

"Just ignore him," A voice sounded across from him and the eldest Pevensie turned to see Hermione Granger pointedly looking away from her friend. "He does this every time."

"Every time?" Peter couldn't remember seeing this whenever he or his siblings watched the Hogwarts students through the Pool in the Wood Between the Worlds. This was just nauseating.

"Yep, every time." She didn't sound all that thrilled either. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way. We met on the train, remember?" She held out her hand and smiled.

Peter, in turn, smiled back and gave her hand a strong shake. "I remember. It's a pleasure to meet you again. I trust that blond boy didn't give you any more trouble?" He watched as she shook her head and grinned.

"Nope."

"Good." Here, Peter turned his attention over to Harry and gave the boy a smile. "You're Harry Potter, right? And he's Ron Weasley?" Of course Peter knew this, but let it never be said that he couldn't act.

Harry nodded and gave a slight smile. "That's right. I apologize for Ron's, umm, eating."

But Peter just shook his and gave him a 'don't-worry-about-it' look despite the fact that he was nauseated. "It's fine. Edmund's like that sometimes when Susan's not around to tell him to stop eating like a pig." Of course, the king was not referring to Talking Pigs; They actually had very good manners and even Edmund wasn't that bad.

Pretending to look around, Peter asked, "So, where are the other three? Ginny, Neville, and Luna, I believe their names were?" Hermione and Harry nodded.

"Well, Ginny and Neville are over there," Here the female Gryffindor prefect pointed to the plump boy and redheaded girl sitting only a few seats down. "And Luna is in Ravenclaw. I do believe she's actually sitting next to your sister. Susan, right?"

Peter turned to look at the elder of his younger sisters and saw that she was indeed sitting next to the spacey blonde girl. "Yep, that's Su alright."

"Well, they look like they're having a nice conversation." Hermione observed, but Peter got the distinct impression that she wasn't overly impressed with Luna Lovegood. "So, Peter?" Said boy drew his attention to the girl. "Why didn't you tell us you were Dumbledore's grandson?"

This drew the attention of many of the nearby Gryffindors, so much so that even Ron stopped eating. Peter at once grew wary. "Well, Edmund sort of cut us off before I had the chance to really talk to you all—had to save him from girls you see." Several of the boys with sisters laughed appreciatively. "But, it's not really something we like to broadcast. Not many know Grandfather even had a family and since we don't have the same surname it's easier to get away with."

The crowd nodded. "That makes sense." Harry said, understanding the Pevensies' situation more than most. He had often wished that no one knew him.

"Totally understand, mate." Ron moaned through his food and Peter fought back the urge to gag. "Sometimes, I wish people didn't know I was related to certain members of my family." Here he sent not so sly looks towards his twin brothers. Said boys saw him and grinned, moving from where they were sitting and listening in to plop down next to their little brother.

"We completely agree, ickle Ronnikins." They shouted together in his ear and Peter was immediately met with the image of two ginger-haired Edmunds. Oh that was a scary thought.

"So, Peter right?" The twin on the left spoke, grinning so broadly it was a wonder his face hadn't split in half.

The blond nodded warily. "That's right. And you are…?" Peter did, of course, know who they were, it was sort of hard not to, but still, for the sake of appearances.

The one on the right gasped in mock shock. "Oh how terribly rude of us!"

"Horribly rude!"

"Atrociously rude!"

"Awfully rude!"

"I'm Gred Weasley." The one on the right said.

"No, no, you're Fred Weasley." The one on the left stated and Peter didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

'Gred' looked confused. "I am?"

"Yes," The one on the left replied. "And I'm George Weasley." They both sent megawatt smiles at the amused, yet frighten, blond. "We're twins!"

"…I can tell…" Peter was really in too much shock to say anything else. Thank Aslan Edmund didn't have a twin or Peter had the feeling that he would have had to put up with something like this his whole life.

Growing 'serious', the twins leaned forward and gave the younger boy a critical look. "So, Peter, think you can introduce us to your Slytherin brother? He seemed like a interesting bloke."

The High King fought the urge to scream. No way would he willing bring together three such troublemaking people! Absolutely not. But before he had the chance to open his mouth, Fred—or was it George?—spoke up.

"Yeah, for a Slytherin he seemed okay. Good head on his shoulders-"

"Decent looking lad-"

"Not to mention nobody would ever think us to team up with a Snake."

George sent his brother a raised eyebrow, literally. "Very nice, Fred, and if we're caught we can say we're promoting Inner-House relations."

"Oh, I like it." Fred sent the raised eyebrow back and Peter watched in slight fascination as the hair follicles went back and forth between the two. "And the Hat did say we had to learn to work with the other Houses."

"Very true, Fred, very true." George nodded 'seriously.' "And what better way than to introduce ourselves to the young Pevendore?"

"Pevendore, George?"" The raised eyebrow came to settle permanently above Fred's left eye.

"Well, I was thinking of Dumblesie, but it just didn't have the same flair." At this George grimaced in mock sadness. "So Pevendore it is."

"Ah," Fred nodded slowly. "…I like it!"

Peter wanted to die. "Can't we just leave it at Pevensie?"

The twins scoffed though, simultaneously waving the suggestion away with their hands. "No, no. Too plain." Fred explained.

"Too simple."

"Too normal."

"We cannot have that!" They finished simultaneously.

This time it was Peter with the raised eyebrow. "Right," He said slowly. "Well, good luck getting that past Ed."

"Thank you." A crash down at the First Year end of the table sounded and the twins spun around with large grins on their faces. Apparently they had been up to something.

"Now," George began, winking at the eldest Pevensie. "We're off-"

"-To go scare-"

"-Some firsties."

"Bye!"

It took a moment after the twins had left for Peter to regain his equilibrium. In Narnia, dog packs tended to behave much like the twins did, however Peter hadn't had to deal with them in many many years. It was unsettling and, truthfully, down right creepy.

Leaning across towards Harry, Peter said, "Do they _always_ do that?"

"Actually, I think they're having an off day."

"…Good to know." _Dear Aslan protect my sisters and I from the inevitable mess that is sure to come, _he thought, already bemoaning their fate once the twins and Edmund eventually met. Oh well, might as well enjoy the vague normalcy while it lasted.

Turning his attention over to the Trio, he was met with the view of Sir Nicholas floating over towards the Creevey Brothers in a huff and Hermione berating an overstuffed Ron. Peter decided he didn't want to know.

_I really hope the others are having better luck than I am.

* * *

_

It is a well-known fact in the family that Susan Pevensie is exceptionally logical. It is also a well-known fact in the Ravenclaw House that Luna Lovegood is exceptionally illogical. One might begin to wonder then what it was that the two could have possibly been talking about during the entirety of the feast, but somehow the two managed to hold a steady and engaging conversation.

It had started out simply enough; Susan needed to find a place to sit and the only available seat was by the spacey blonde girl. Yeah, she probably could have found another seat and the Ravenclaws had already been making room for her, but, if nothing else, Susan was stubborn and if she wanted to sit next to Luna Lovegood then she would. So, she did.

At first, it didn't even seem like Luna knew she was there. She just continued to stare off into space as the raven-haired girl sat down. If not for the fact that Susan knew Luna very well, she probably would have thought the girl was being stuck-up, but as it was, she knew quite a bit about Luna Lovegood (that is not to say that Susan knew everything, she just happened to know more than most).

"Hello." The new Ravenclaw said after the food began to appear on the plates. It all looked delicious, but Susan had always been a dainty eater and so she did not reach for it right away.

Luna, however, did. Placing a piece of chicken onto her plate, the blonde turned to the other girl and smiled dreamily. "Hello, do you want some chicken?"

Susan nodded. "Yes please." The plate was pushed towards her and the former queen placed a small amount onto her own dish. "Thank you. My name is Susan Pevensie, by the way. What's yours?"

"Luna Lovegood."

"Nice to meet you."

"And you." Both girls smiled at each other and started eating, a comfortable silence between them.

It was a few moments later, after both had eaten most of their chicken and mashed potatoes, that Luna, eyes glued to the Slytherin Table, said, "He doesn't look very well, does he?"

Susan perked up and moved her head up to glance at the table across the hall. Following along to where she was pretty sure Luna's gaze rested, she was surprisingly unsurprised to find herself looking at her own little brother. While many seeing him for the first time would think he was just pale and Slythering-ly unsmiling, his siblings (and now apparently Luna) could tell that he was holding back a grimace. Doubt formed in Susan's head about their choice to place Edmund in the House of Snakes, but unfortunately nothing could be done now.

Outwardly though, she just nodded. "Yeah. He wasn't feeling very well earlier, though—headaches, he said. I think the train ride got him a bit sick and our unplanned trek around the castle didn't help."

The dreamy gaze cleared for just a second into clarity, as if Luna didn't completely believe the answer, but it was gone a moment later and the blonde smiled knowingly.

Nodding her head, Luna whispered, "It's probably the Wrackspurts. They go inside your ears and make your head feel fuzzy." If Susan didn't already know that those creatures did, in fact, exist, she probably would have called the other girl crazy. As it was, she thought Luna was very observant—a trait Susan appreciated very much.

"Oh?" Susan said, only slightly pretending to sound intrigued while subconsciously reminding herself to speak to Edmund the moment the feast was over. "I've never heard about them before. What do they look like?"

It was in that second, with that simple question, that Luna just knew that she had made a friend. Someone didn't think she was loony. Someone was listening.

And so Luna began to talk.

* * *

Edmund's head hurt. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as it had been, but it was enough that all the man-turned-boy wanted to do was snuggle up under the covers of his bed and sleep. It was funny really, that he could brave being gutted by spears, sliced open by swords, and shot through by arrows, but he still caved under the inane annoyance of a headache. It was enough to make the king cringe in embarrassment.

As if to add to his discomfort, the members of the Slytherin House seemed to be trying their damnedest to make him feel unwelcome. Their stares were untrusting and wary, and while Edmund could understand their caution to some extent, he did not like being looked at like he was a pariah.

Once was quite enough, thank you very much.

Brushing off the pain in his head, the dark-haired boy smirked and moved so as to close the space separating himself from the rest of the Slytherin Third Years. Since they had nowhere to go once Edmund moved, they were forced to sit stiffly where they were and hope to Merlin that the boy didn't start talking to them.

Those poor, delusional children.

"I don't bite, you know," Edmund continued to smirk, letting it widen even as the eyes of his new classmates got bigger. This was sure to be entertaining. "At least, not usually."

"…You're a Dumbledore." It was the brave (and possibly stupid) boy sitting across from Edmund that muttered those words, and the former king felt himself holding back a laugh.

"Actually, it's Pevensie," He said as if trying to explain the moon to a mole. "Grandfather is from my mother's side." The boy looked rather startled that Edmund had responded so calmly, but he quickly hid it. This was Slytherin; if your emotions were on your sleeves, people were free to rip them off.

"…I see." The olive-haired boy continued and his friends urged him on, too afraid themselves to actually start speaking. "And that relationship is…good?"

Now, Edmund had to think. He could either: a.) Lie completely and feel guilty if he ever did become friends with some of them, b.) Give a partial 'not-quite-a-complete-truth-but-not-a-lie-either' sort of answer, or c.) (and he was quite partial to this one) tell the truth.

Well, for obvious reasons, Option C was quite out of the equation. Edmund didn't like to lie, but he wasn't stupid. In certain situations, the truth was just plain dumb. However, Option A wasn't very appealing either because, quite frankly, the boy hated it. If he could avoid lying, he would. So, all that was left was Option B. Great.

"Well, sort of." He began, scrambling for something believable. "Mum and Grandfather had this mutual agreement not to interfere with each other. Our parents weren't very pleased with Grandfather's policies and he in turn wasn't very happy, either. It was almost like 'I'll acknowledge that we're in the same family, but I'm not going to owl you for a pleasant chat,' sort of relationship." Well, it was partial truth.

Still, the story served its purpose. The Slytherins relaxed a bit, more at ease with the knowledge that maybe the Headmaster's family wasn't entirely polluted. Entirely. They didn't exactly forget that their new housemate's brother was a Gryffindor.

Surprisingly, it was an older student that broke the silence that had captivated the Third Years. Piercing grey-blue eyes bore into Edmund's own brown ones and the older blond boy leaned forward. "Was?"

Now it was Edmund's turn to freeze. …_Was._ Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid!_

Face blank, the king continued to stare at the older boy. "Yes. Was." He did not explain and Draco Malfoy did not ask. It was not the Slytherin way.

* * *

Helga Hufflepuff had been an exceptionally kind woman and Lucy was quickly finding out that the children in her house were the same. They had welcomed her with open arms and Lucy found herself enjoying their company immensely. All of them were so open and happy that Lucy couldn't bring herself to even imagine the possible horrors that were to come. She wouldn't let her mind destroy her first night here and became determined to enjoy everything to its fullest.

Such was the reason that her plate was piled high with all her favorite foods in quantities that Susan definitely would have disapproved of. Her new housemates thought it was actually quite funny and many of them began to follow her example, chatting amongst themselves. Lucy even found herself talking quite amiably to another first year named Rose Zeller, a girl with such fiery red hair it would put a Weasley to shame.

To Lucy, it was a breath of fresh air.

She and her siblings had the really bad habit of watching people through the pools in the Wood Between the Worlds. It was an ability they had discovered that the Woods had where if they thought hard enough about one person in the correct area, they would be able to see what that person was doing or thinking. Of course, they respected everyone's privacy, but there were a few people that the Pevensies felt the need to keep tabs on.

Rose Zeller was not one of them and as such the queen didn't really know anything about her. Lucy did so enjoy meeting new people.

As it would turn out, Rose and Lucy had quite a bit in common. Both had a deep love for animals and respect for nature. They also both enjoyed swimming and running, and generally not listening to their older siblings (of which Lucy learned Rose had five of). However, while Lucy was outgoing and an all-around a ball of energy, Rose was a bit more reserved. Just a bit, though.

"My brother does it all the time!" She exclaimed to Lucy, who was listening with rapped attention. "He's always saying, 'Rose, don't do this!', 'Rose, don't do that!', 'Rose, you're going to get hurt!'"

Lucy laughed as her new friend explained her relationship with her siblings. It was remarkably identical to hers. "I know what you mean. Sometimes, you just want to tell them that you can take care of yourself."

"Exactly!" Both girls smiled.

"Still," Lucy continued, her smile softening. "They do mean for the best. I don't know what I'd do without them."

"I guess." Rose relied, looking curious at her new friend's sudden change in expression. "So, you're really close to your siblings?"

Lucy nodded and giggled. "Yeah. We've been through a lot together and we tend to gravitate towards each other more than anyone else in our family. Of course," She giggled again, a bit uneasily. "That doesn't mean we don't act like siblings."

"Oh?" Rose grinned.

"Peter and Edmund seem to be going for the award of who can be the most over-protective without really appearing to be. So, of course, they're both over-protective about each other and that gets on their nerves. Then they obviously have fight about it, only to make up and start all over again." She finished with a wry smile and Rose broke out into peels of laughter. "Susan and I are much more mature than that. We don't argue nearly as much."

Rose nodded. "That sounds like my sister and me. Of course, she always yells at me for taking her clothes or her broom."

"So does Susan!" Lucy exclaimed. "Of course, she doesn't have a broom for me to steal, but I always take her clothes."

Rose looked incredulous. "She doesn't have a broom? I would have thought you would all have one?"

Now it was Lucy's turn to look curious. "Why's that?"

"Well," The redhead looked uncomfortable. "It's just that as Dumbledore's family, I would think that brooms would be common place." She fidgeted, hoping she hadn't just insulted the girl beside her.

But Lucy just gave her an easy smile and Rose felt so relieved that she missed the brief flash of unease flicker through the other redhead's eyes. "It's alright. Susan has always had a fear of heights," _On Earth, not Narnia._ "And Peter and Edmund much prefer horses." _Not that they didn't love gliding on the backs of Gryphons or Dragons._ "As for me, well I'd rather run or ride." _Riding on Aslan's back was better than flying. _

"So no Quidditch for you?"

"No, I'm afraid not." She giggled, trying to hide her growing nervousness. After all, there was no magic in the world that could get her and her siblings up on a broom. They may be able to borrow minimal amounts of residual magic from the air to perform simple spells, but they could never get enough to make brooms fly with just them on it. It would be impossible.

"That's a shame. My brothers and I can't go a day without playing it." Rose laughed and Lucy did the same, albeit with less vigor.

"Well, maybe my siblings and I can try." Lucy smiled weakly.

She knew she was already lying.

* * *

When the meal was completed and the dessert finished, Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands for silence. Immediately, the hall fell quiet and everyone's attention focused on the Headmaster.

Smiling, the older man began to speak. "Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now to." As Peter listened to this part, he noticed very distinct smirks gracing the faces of the Golden Trio. He fought the urge to frown. Peter knew the true dangers of the forest; they only thought they knew.

As he continued to listen to his grandfather's speech, the eldest Pevensie spared a glance in Harry's direction. He knew the boy was trying to hide it, but from observing him, Peter easily came to the conclusion that the Boy Who Lived didn't know what to make of him and his siblings. It was obvious that the fifteen year old was trying to respect their wishes not to be treated special, having been through the experience himself, but at the same time his respect for Dumbledore was interfering.

Peter felt sorry for him.

"…Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—" But the Headmaster cut off and Peter found his thoughts immediately leaving Harry when he heard the distinct "_Hem, hem,_" from the woman in pink. Having missed the introductions of the new teachers (although he was aware of their names), the boy was at a loss of what to think. On the one hand, she was a teacher and Peter always respected his teachers. On the other hand, her outfit sort of creeped him out and her voice grated on his nerves (which was saying something since she hadn't actually spoken yet). Also, she had interrupted his grandfather, which was a big 'no-no'. Peter decided he didn't like her.

As the woman began to speak, the former High King felt his dislike for her grow. She was speaking to them as if they were five-years old, but the glint in her eyes spoke of contempt and an arrogance she did not merit. Peter knew her kind from a mile away and he knew from experience that people like Professor Umbridge were notoriously dangerous. She may have appeared harmless and insipid to most, but as Peter listened to her speech patterns change, he knew without a doubt that she could not be left to her own devices.

Catching his younger brother's smoldering gaze, they nodded once at each other, both thinking the same thing. _Watch this one._ Then, Edmund's eyes twitched slightly in a subtle hint for his older brother to look behind him. Shifting his eyes so he could see out of his peripheral, Peter watched as Susan sat up straighter in her seat, until her back was ramrod. He saw Lucy's eyes darken from the table in front of her sister, until her eyes were almost black in color. Briefly, they both met his gaze and with barely noticeable nods they let him know their decision.

The message was clear between them; Umbridge had to go.

* * *

Normally, Draco didn't pay much attention to the Beginning of Year Speech, but he found that this one might be of more interest than usual. It wasn't just because he couldn't stop looking at Dumbledore now without wanting to shiver, knowing that the old coot had, at one point, reproduced (a disturbing fact to be sure), but more to do with the weird little woman in pink.

Oh, he knew who she was. He had known about her since the beginning of the year when his father had informed him of the witch and her ties to the Ministry. Lucius' eyes when he spoke of her had sort of scared Draco; they had been a mix of dark hunger and overpowering pleasure. Now, it was not the type of pleasure his father usually showed when he talked about a woman (that was a disturbing pleasure that Draco always felt sick after seeing), but it was more of a twisted…_thing_, one he only really saw when he heard his father talk about the Dark Lord and his plans. Yes, it was a very twisted _thing_.

Still, he couldn't help but feel excited. From what he could glean from his father, the Ministry was finally taking a stand against the Headmaster and his ridiculous sympathizing ways. Honestly, it made him gag just thinking about all the Mudbloods and Blood Traitors in this school. Slytherin wasn't as cursed with the lot as much as the other houses, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe now with Umbridge around, the school might have some hope.

He frowned though, when the new 'professor' interrupted the Headmaster's speech. Draco may not have liked the old man, but he was brought up with manners and everyone of respectability knew not to interrupt someone when they were talking. It was just poor form. Yet even though he didn't agree with it, the Malfoy heir couldn't help but form a smirk as she began to talk. While her tone may have annoyed him, the meaning of her words made him feel excited.

_Yes,_ he thought, _someone's finally taking action_. Looking around, he saw the other Slytherins begin to smirk too. Well, almost every Slytherin.

Edmund Pevensie's face was completely blank, not unlike how it had been during the sortings and on the train. Draco supposed the younger boy couldn't be expected to like Umbridge all that much, what with being Dumbledore's great-something-or-other-grandson, but if he was going to be a Slytherin then he would have to begin to act like one.

Unfortunately, the minute Draco finished deciding that the Pevensie would have to let go of all the Mudblood sympathies that had probably been ingrained in him, said boy turned his head to stare at the blond. All thoughts of changing Edmund's mind fled Draco's thoughts and all he could think about were the thirteen-year-old's eyes, or, more specifically, what those eyes were conveying to him.

They weren't as blank as he had thought they had been, but hard and smoldering with dislike and warning. Draco wasn't as surprised to detect most of it was directed at Umbridge, but he was astounded to discover that some of it was directed at him. Oh, not the dislike, that was all for the new professor, but the warning, almost as if the younger boy knew what Draco was thinking.

And that scared him.

All thoughts of Umbridge, of his father, of the Dark Lord, fled his mind as the brown eyes bore into his own. For just a second, he was no longer Draco Malfoy, but just Draco, a normal wizard with no ties to blood or ideals. He was himself and Draco didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, he felt something, something churn around him, and he got the overwhelming sense to run. He had to move, he had to go and get something, but what? The image of a book flashed through his mind so quickly, he almost didn't catch the title, but either way it wouldn't have mattered—he already knew what book it was.

Then, as quickly as it started, it ended. Edmund turned away and Draco came back to his senses. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed something wrong, but they were all too busy coming out of their bored states to notice his discomfort. As much as the blond wanted to though, he couldn't get the intimidating stare out of his mind any more than he could get out the image of the book.

Watching Edmund Pevensie pay attention as his grandfather once again began to speak, the book's title played itself across his mind and one question surfaced amongst the image.

…_Who are you?

* * *

_

Well, that's it for this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it and that it was worth the wait. I hope to have the next chapter up soon, but I have my finals this week and next week, and then all of May I have my IB tests. So, once all those tests are done I should be free to have more writing time.

Thank you all for your patience and support!

Please review, but don't flame!

Cookies for all!

~TimeMage0955


	5. Whispers on the Walls

Hey everyone, so here is the fourth chapter (fifth if you count the prologue) of _To Judge the Lost_. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they make me so happy. I hope this lives up to your expectations and keeps you wanting more.

This chapter is currently un-beta-ed so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. If anyone who's good at grammar would like to beta for me I would greatly appreciate it. It's almost summer break so I should have more time to update then.

Just to let you all know I have decided not to make this a crossover with The Dark is Rising Series. All I am going to do with that is borrow the different types of Magic and Time. There will probably be no other references, but if there are I will be sure to mention them.

Disclaimer: Really, if I owned this, I wouldn't even bother going to school. It all belongs to C. S. Lewis, J. K. Rowling, and (a bit) of Susan Cooper.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**To Judge the Lost**

**Chapter 4: Whispers on the Walls**

Despite himself, Edmund couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved at the way the portraits' eyes followed him down the corridor. Yes, he understood they were shocked to see him, and yes, he knew he looked a bit different, but that didn't mean they had to stare. It was strange enough walking through the halls 'alone' without having them follow his every move. The fact that they were whispering about him too was just plain aggravating. Still, Edmund had a great deal more patience than when he was younger and took it all in stride, ignoring them and moving about the dark passages with careless ease. However, when he heard them whisper for about the twelfth time in ten minutes he gave up.

"Will you all shut up?" He whirled around and pointed his index finger at the offending portraits. "I swear, you're all worse than a nest of Hummingbirds."

Stuttering and clearly horrified at having offended him, one of the men in the closest portrait bowed low. "We did not mean to offend, Majesty, it's just we never expected You to, well…" He trailed off and Edmund raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

The man fidgeted. "We just never thought the Four of You would ever return, at least, not formally." He played with the hem of his robes. "It's a bit of a shock, sir."

Upon seeing the looks on all their painted faces, Edmund sighed and lowered his hand. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he said, "While that is understandable, I would much rather you speak to my face than behind it."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The 'people' bowed.

Remaining where he stood, Edmund nodded in acknowledgment and looked at the first wizard. "Now, was there something you wished to ask?"

Bumbling, the wizard nodded and at the encouragement of his fellows, motioned to speak. "Yes, sire. We were just wondering, well, why You have returned?"

The young king was silent for a while, almost to the point that the paintings were beginning to fear that they had offended Him. They needn't have worried though, for there was no anger in Edmund's eyes when he turned to look at them. Taking a deep breath, he made sure he had their complete attention. "I could give you all many reasons as to why We are here, most of which are completely true and some which are not." He paused for them to absorb the new information. "But let me make myself clear: We are not here to save the Wizarding World; We cannot. Only a wizard can end a wizard's battle. But We do want to help, and for that we will need all of you."

"Anything, Sire," The woman next to the first wizard said.

"I know, Lady, and for that you have Our thanks." He sent her a kind smile. "We just need you to be Our eyes and ears. We cannot be everywhere at once, you know."

They all nodded quickly, happy to be of help to the young king. "We understand, Your Majesty."

"Thank you." Tired, yet content, Edmund smiled and turned to continue back down the empty corridor. Behind him, the paintings bowed or curtsied; ready to do the job they had been assigned. They would do their job well, and Hogwarts would not be the same for it.

* * *

"There you are, Ed!" Susan immediately rounded on him the moment he entered the room. "We were beginning to get worried." She grabbed his face gently to get a good look at him, but Edmund managed to pull out of her grasp before it got too uncomfortable.

Rubbing his cheeks, he said, "I'm fine, Susan, really. I just had a run in with a few of the portraits." His older sister did not appear convinced, but she let it go, if only for now.

"Well, if you're sure," She ended uncertainly, her eyes moving up and down once more just to be safe.

"I'm sure." He grinned lightly. Susan tended to worry herself over the smallest of things. It would almost be nice if she didn't do it so often.

A cough was heard from behind them and both turned to look at their older brother. "Alright Su, that's enough. We have more important things to discuss." Peter said, ruining the scene. He sat down in one of the comfy armchairs and gestured for his siblings to follow suit.

"What could we possibly have to discuss? It's only the first night." Edmund yawned, stretching himself across the chair in a much un-kingly manner.

"Edmund," Susan mumbled crossly, looking pointedly at his position. Sighing, the younger boy righted himself so that he was sitting properly. "Thank you."

"What we have to discuss, Edmund, is the fact that you neglected to inform us about what was giving you the headaches." Peter's gaze was sharp, and his younger brother took a sudden interest in the patterns being shaped by the fire. "Don't look away, Ed." Slowly, the Just king met his brother's eyes. "Why didn't you tell us about Slytherin? "

There was an uncomfortable silence as the three other Pevensies gazed pointedly at their brother. Said boy in turn, seemed just as determined as they to not respond. He knew deep down that it wouldn't last long, but it was worth a shot.

"Edmund…" Peter trailed off, as if trying to coax his brother into talking.

"What do you want me to say, Peter?" They younger boy turned sharp eyes to his siblings, all of whom sat stunned at his change in demeanor. "That I didn't want to worry you? That I felt it was unimportant? What do you want me to tell you?"

"I want you to tell me why you didn't feel it necessary to inform us of what caused you to feel so horrible." The High King replied forcefully. "Aslan, Ed, if we had known, we never would have placed you in Slytherin."

"Exactly!" His siblings' eyes grew larger. "But then who would have gone? We all know that neither of us would send Susan and Lucy into Slytherin, and you certainly wouldn't have fit there. I was the only logical choice."

"That's not the point, Ed," Susan sighed. "If being in Slytherin hurts you then one of us would have gladly taken your place, no matter the consequences."

Edmund took a deep breath before speaking, as if to stop himself from saying something stupid. "I know, Su, but it's not Slytherin that's the problem. I don't even really understand it. When I'm an adult I'm perfectly fine, but in this child like body…"

"You can't control it." Peter finished for him, and Edmund shook his head, staring at his hands. "Ed…"

"It's not that big of a deal. I'll get used to it," He mumbled.

"But you shouldn't have to get used to it, Ed," Susan said, worry clear in her voice. "If not Slytherin, do you even know what's causing it?"

Nodding his head hesitantly, Edmund watched as his siblings leaned in closer. "I think – I think it has something to do with the Dark Magic left over from Tom's experiments. In this young body, I'm more susceptible to it because it was around this age that I was exposed to the Dark more." He shook his head. "But really it could be anything."

Peter nodded slowly, as if agreeing. "It's a good theory, and since you are the most in tuned to Dark Magic it's not so far-fetched." He chuckled, not amused. "Funny isn't it, how being in the Grey doesn't just mean neutral."

Lucy, also not amused, snorted in a most un-ladylike manner. "Define neutral, Peter. Helping both sides equally counts; sensitivity to different Magics count."

"But of course, Lucy," Susan lowered her gaze to the wooden floor. "What is balance without both sides? We are forced to do one thing when our body's automatically tell us to do another. If we were anyone else it could almost be interesting."

"Not nearly interesting enough to make me like it." Lucy grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms and gazing into the fire the Room of Requirements had provided.

Edmund, his chin is his palms, only grunted. "Speak for yourself, Lu. You're most in tune with Light Magic."

Eyes dull from years of memories, Lucy muttered, "It's not always so wonderful, Edmund."

"I know." And he did, he really did, but sometimes…well, it didn't really matter.

"How did our lives get so screwed up?" Peter whispered, not even fully there.

His brother only snorted and quickly looked at him. "We found a world in a wardrobe, that's how."

"Do you regret it?"

"Never."

"Me neither." The girls nodded too. They could never regret Narnia, and they could never regret Aslan. Ever.

The Four sat in not very comfortable, but not horrible, silence for quite some time after that, sipping cups of tea that Susan had borrowed from Dumbledore. Eventually, they spoke of how their Houses acted with each other and the three younger siblings soon learned of the fight between Harry and Seamus. It was troubling, but nothing that couldn't be fixed over time. Mostly though, they just sat and enjoyed each other's company, relishing in the peace they were sure wouldn't last much longer.

It wasn't until a few hours later, just when he was thinking about heading back to the dungeons, that Edmund felt his brother's hand rest on his shoulder.

"If it becomes too much, you'll come to us immediately, right?" He asked quietly, and Edmund was very much aware of Susan and Lucy watching him with intense eyes.

Nodding softly, Edmund said, "Yeah, I'll come." It was nice, Edmund felt, to see Peter's eyes relax at those words.

"…Good." He gave his younger brother's shoulder a squeeze. "Well, we'd best be off then. We have to be in the best of shape to try and pull off some magic tomorrow."

"Wonderful," said Edmund sarcastically. With his luck, he'd be stuck with Umbridge first period.

Chuckling, Peter ruffled his hair. "Buck up, Ed, it won't be too bad."

"You try being me and then we'll see who's laughing," he said, trying to fix his already messy hair. As usual it was useless, even when Susan tried to help him.

"Of course," Peter replied, still laughing. "Well, come on, we've dawdled long enough. I don't know how long it will be before the first person wakes up, so we'd best get moving." His siblings all stood, but Edmund couldn't prevent himself from frowning.

"Says the person who made us get out of our comfy beds at one in the morning." Peter scowled and his brother held back a grin. "What?" But Peter just shook his head, exasperated. It wasn't worth getting into a fight about.

"Nothing, come on." Poking his head out the door to make sure the halls were clear, Peter motioned for his siblings to follow him and they all slipped out into the dim corridors.

They walked in silence until they got to the sleeping portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, named for a wizard who foolishly tried to train trolls for the ballet. From there they were met with two sets of staircases, one leading up and one leading down. To anyone else, those steps would have been met with apathy, but the Pevensies were not anyone else and to them those stairs mean a little something different—distance; or, more specifically, distance between the elder siblings with the younger. Even after seventy-some-odd years, Peter and Susan still felt as if they needed to watch the younger two. It was a problem that probably was not going to be fixed any time soon, and as Edmund and Lucy started down towards the bowels of the castle, Peter and Susan reached out to grab their shoulders. Turning around, the two youngest Pevensies calmly looked at their older siblings, already knowing what they were going to say.

"You two will be careful, right?" Peter asked seriously. "You'll come to us if something happens?"

Sighing, the king and queen nodded. "Yes, Peter," Edmund said, "We'll come, but I doubt anything is going to happen. It is Hogwarts after all." Unfortunately, this didn't help the older two's nerves.

"That's what we're afraid of, Ed." Susan bit her lip, eyeing them both up and down. She appeared to be trying to drink in all their features.

Noticing this, Edmund attempted to lighten the mood, but he didn't exactly succeed. "Aslan, Su, if this is what you're both like when we're not in danger what will you do when the war starts?" No one smiled. "Right, sorry."

Lucy, seeming to try to shake the uneasy silence off of herself, said, "And anyway, we're going to be seeing each other in a few hours. I doubt we'll need you before then."

"Tomorrow doesn't worry us, Lu," Peter stated. "It's the days after we're frightened about."

"You know, Peter, we're not so little anymore that we can't take care of ourselves." The younger king grumbled, touched, but still annoyed. "We've fought in, and survived, wars before. Living a bit away from you both isn't that big of a deal."

If this statement hurt Peter or Susan it didn't show. They both just continued to look at the younger two with troubled concern until Edmund and Lucy gave in. It didn't take very long, since both younger children were easy to guilt (at least on the subject of each other) and so they weren't able to hold up against their older siblings very easily.

As if struggling to speak, Edmund relented. "Fine!" He grumbled. "But don't expect us to come at every little inconvenience. We are over two-thousand years old, if you'll remember."

"Just because we're over two-thousand cumulatively doesn't mean we've experienced all those years." Peter reasoned, not ready to let them both go yet.

Sighing, Edmund pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, seventy-some-odd years. But you know, most people are considered wise by this time. It's not like we're going to trip and fall down the stairs to our deaths." He scoffed at the thought. "If we even _can_ die that is."

"Edmund…" Susan drew out.

"A little trust is all we ask." Edmund stated and Lucy nodded. "If something happens, which it won't, you're barely fifteen minutes away by running." His stare intensified. "Please, Peter."

That seemed to end the conversation. Peter and Susan, knowing they could say nothing to that, just gave jerky nods to show that they understood. Edmund's eyes softened and Lucy gave a small smile. They were okay again.

"Thank you."

The Four headed off to bed without a backwards glance.

* * *

The Slytherin Dungeons hadn't always been a dormitory. It had originally started out as just that: a dungeon, meant for prisoners of all sizes and species. After it came into the possession of the Founders, Slytherin turned it into his own personal chambers where he could connect with his students. Historically speaking, he chose the dungeons because it was the best place for him to practice his potions without too much sunlight. Truthfully, it was because he lost a bet.

Now, if it had been a bet with Helga he might have won. With Rowena the possibility of winning might have slimmed a bit. Had it been with Godric he most likely would have won if only because Gryffindor couldn't win a bet to save his life. Unfortunately, the pale man had had the misfortune of making the bet with Edmund Pevensie.

The wager: who could make it to the Great Hall the fastest?

It was stupid. It was idiotic. It was childish. And Edmund won.

I suppose that, at the time, the bet was a bit unfair. Contrary to popular wizarding belief, it was not the Founders who built the castle; they just turned it into a school. It was actually Aslan who made the foundations of the building, or more specifically, the Pevensies at the Lion's command. When Slytherin and Edmund made the bet, the younger king had lived in the castle for about two years; Salazar had two weeks. Of course, the darker man could have used magic to gain the upper hand, but the wards around the school were new at the time and the kinks had yet to be worked out. Using such magic may have brought about unforeseen consequences that the four not-yet-professors wouldn't have been ready to deal with. Plus, Salazar did have some honor.

In the end though, Slytherin lost and was forced to move to the dungeons. The fact that after a thousand years of renovations and magical changes, Edmund no longer knew his way around probably would have done nothing to sooth the dark wizard's aggravation. That is, if he were still alive…

…Which, unfortunately, he was—in the form of a very disgruntled painting.

"You know, if you stood up straighter it might make people think of you as something other than a lanky dwarf." Edmund grit his teeth in annoyance as he tried to tune out the raspy voice. "And why don't you ever brush your hair? You look like an idiot who got into a fight with a bush." Tuning him out was slightly harder than it would appear.

"This coming from the bald hunchback who only managed to get a girl through an arranged marriage," He muttered under his breath, eyes staring straight ahead.

The tapping sound of the painted man moving through portraits increased, indicating that Edmund hadn't been as quiet as he hoped. "What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," The king breezed. He turned the corner towards the Slytherin Wall only to be met with the angry face of the founder himself. "Yes?"

Arms crossed and red paint brushing his cheeks, the pale man glared down at the unimpressed youth. "I understand that you've ordered the other paintings to be your eyes and ears in this school, but some of us have better things to do with our time."

"Like?" Edmund challenged. He crossed his arms and waited, knowing that the paintings complained of nothing but boredom.

"Like scaring first years and annoying anyone who walks by."

"Right," Edmund drawled, already aware that such things were beneath the legendary wizard. "And you expect me to believe that that prevents you from helping out your kind?"

"Yes," Slytherin hissed, "You do not control me."

Steeling himself, Edmund leveled a fierce look towards the ancient man. "You are correct, I do not control you, but you are no fool. You know exactly why we need your help."

"Tell me, King Edmund," The wizard said with a dark gaze. "Why should I help you save a world full of Mudbloods and Half-bloods?" He raised an eyebrow. "For that matter, why should I save a world that no longer matters to me at all?" Salazar smirked at the dark look that passed over Edmund's face.

Unfortunately for the wizard, the shadow didn't last long and Edmund's face soon became impassive. "Do not take me for a fool, Salazar. Even you know that the pure blood is thinning." Slight triumph laced his voice as Slytherin sneered. "And you know that if your Heir were to succeed, the line of wizards would disappear. You would loose your power, your influence on this castle. My Siblings and I do not have to be here. There are many places we could go that Voldemort cannot touch. You, on the other hand, would be stuck as his slave. In the end, you would lose. Again."

A few stiff moments of silence followed the end of that sentence. It was in the dark wizard's very nature to win, no matter the costs (losing to Edmund did not count). If it had to be him or his Heir then by Merlin he would win!

"Besides," Edmund continued, cutting through the ancient man's thoughts, "Voldemort, as I'm sure you are aware, is a Half-blood himself, and, if I recall correctly, the one thing you hate above everything else is a hypocrite."

The bald man scowled, but nodded. It was true. "Yes, but I still do not see why I must help you. You and your family are not even magic."

"No, we are not, but the High Magics still rule over all else. Even you must bow to that." He relaxed. "And anyway, think of it as helping yourself. I really couldn't care either way, but if you keep information and lose, then it will all be on your head."

More silence followed as Edmund stared the painting down. He would win; the king could already see the wizard crumbling. "…Fine," The older man grumbled, turning so as not to look the boy in the eyes. "But I hope you know this is only for my benefit, no one else's."

"Of course." The bow Edmund made was one of mock understanding and Salazar knew it right away.

"…I despise you, I hope you know."

The king's quiet laughter was all the founder heard before the Slytherin Wall closed behind him.

* * *

Edmund Pevensie was _not_ a morning person. Peter was. Lucy was. Susan, well, she could probably go either way, but none of them were as grouchy as Edmund was in the morning. Unfortunately for the boy's new roommates, they were not privy to such information before trying to wake him up.

…With disastrous results.

It was for this reason that Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini—along with a rather large congregation of older Slytherins—were met with the disturbing sight of five, half-naked second year boys standing stark still in the common room. All of them were pale with fright and wide-eyed, and if not for the fact that it would have been beneath them, the rest of the House would have been laughing uproariously. As it was, they could only stare.

"What," Draco began once he got his voice back, "in the name of Merlin are you all doing?"

One of the boys, Luca, could only point towards the boys' dorm and shake his head. "P-Pevendore."

"Pevendore?" The blond raised an eyebrow at the word, not recalling anybody by that name.

Pansy, who had been watching the spectacle from the leather couch, rolled her eyes and turned towards the Malfoy Heir. "Apparently, that's what the Weasel Twins were calling Dumbledore's grandchildren. Couldn't you hear them shouting it?" She finished sardonically.

"I've learned to just block them all out," He replied, waving his hand before turning back to the cowering second years. "So, what has Pevensie done?"

It was a useless question though, as the boys would only shake their heads and continue pointing, murmuring, "Shouldn't have woken him up," over and over.

Realizing that they were getting nowhere, Draco crossed his arms and nodded towards Blaise, indicating for him to follow. The two marched past their buzzing housemates and moved to enter the boys' dormitory. Just as they were about to turn the knob, it opened, allowing for the smaller form of Edmund Pevensie to exit the room.

He appeared not to notice the looks he received as he walked through the common room as if nothing were happening. The boy just continued on his way, reading a book that nobody could see the title of until he reached the stairs leading to the exit. Just as it seemed like he was going to leave, the dark haired boy turned around and leveled a raised eyebrow at his roommates.

"You do realize you have to get dressed before you go to breakfast, right?" And, not even waiting for a reply, he swept out of the room without another glance.

They watched him go in silence.

After a moment, Blaise turned to look at his not-albino friend and asked, "What," he gasped, "was that?" And Draco, who was still staring at the exit, shook his head and looked into the perfectly clean dorm. Nothing was out of place.

Turning to look at the still cowering second years, Draco gathered himself and readopted his persona as the Slytherin Prince. "Alright, that's enough! You," He pointed to the younger boys, "go get dressed! Everyone else, leave!" Even the older Slytherins vanished at that order. Draco Malfoy was not one to be messed with.

Under a minute later, only Draco, Pansy and Blaise remained in the green room. It was quiet, but not unbearable. The dark haired girl softly padded over to her two friends and stood next to them, facing the spot where Edmund Pevensie had left not too long ago. All of their eyes were narrowed, but they waited until the last of the second years had vanished before any of them spoke.

"So," Pansy began, looking at her fingernails, "what do you make him?"

"He's definitely a Dumbledore," Blaise began. "Whether that's good or not, I can't really tell."

Draco hummed in acknowledgement. "There's something off about him—about all of them."

"Well we knew that," Pansy snorted, her green eyes glinting in the candlelight. "They're not very good at keeping themselves inconspicuous."

"I don't know, Pansy," The dark boy whispered, "Something tells me we'll only get as much as they want us to. Besides, I doubt anyone else has picked up on it."

"Probably," The girl nodded. Turning a questioning look towards their blond friend, she said, "You're being quiet, Draco. Anything you want to add?"

Narrowed eyes met her's. "Their eyes are dark." That summed up the conversation. Things were best hidden in the dark.

* * *

"Is there any particular reason why you're looking as if death warmed over?"

Ron looked up glumly from his place between Harry and Hermione. Breakfast had just finished and the fifth year Gryffindors were currently heading off to History of Magic, a decidedly interesting subject aside from the painfully boring teacher.

"Yes." Was all the redhead said, as if it explained everything. Harry, agreeing with his friend, just lolled his head over to look at Peter and stared at him with eyes that spoke of future boredom. It was Hermione though, that took pity on Peter and decided to explain the situation to him, despite the fact that she thought her friends were acting stupid.

Looking exasperated, she said, "They're not looking forward to today's classes. We have History of Magic first, then double Potions, Divination, and then double DADA." She sighed. "Just ignore them, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Ron roared, startling Peter and making a twitch form on Hermione's forehead. "What do you mean it's not that bad? We have Binns, then Snape, then Trelawney, and then that Umbridge lady. How can you say it's not that bad?"

"Oh," Peter said, understanding, "You just don't like the teachers, not the classes." But Ron and Hermione were no longer listening. They were bickering back and forth about things that the eldest Pevensie no longer cared to know about.

Harry sighed and turned to Peter, not at all surprised by his friends. "Sorry, they get like this sometimes."

"It's fine." Peter waved the apology away, before looking at the boy with harder eyes. Harry looked tired, tired and annoyed. "And how are you? We didn't have much time to talk last night or this morning."

"Fine," Was the one word answer.

The High King raised an eyebrow. "Really? You don't seem very fine. Seamus' comments didn't appear to help you."

"Yeah, well, Seamus can just-" Peter cut off the explosion with a raised hand.

"Harry," He said quietly so as not to alert the bickering duo, "you need to stop letting such things get to you. I understand that they hurt, but the more of a reaction you give, the less people will be inclined to believe you." His eyes darkened. "And in these times, you want people on your side. Seamus will come around, but until then, ignore it."

If not for the sudden severity of his voice, Harry would have just continued to rant, but Peter got his point across. He knew the truth and that was all that mattered.

…At least, until History of Magic came around. By then, the conversation was almost forgotten and nothing mattered except trying to stay awake.

Peter tried, oh how he tried, but even he soon succumbed to the vestiges of sleep. So this was why Ron looked so depressed. Funny, the High King couldn't recall Binns ever being this boring when he was alive. It was almost depressing how much entertainment he could get from watching his classmates fall asleep. If he was not mistaken, half of the people in the class had trained themselves to sleep with their eyes open. Unconsciously, Peter was impressed. What was more impressive though, was the fact that Hermione was actually awake. Peter didn't even think Susan would have been able to keep her eyes open.

It was a shame really, the topic was actually quite interesting, especially to one such as Peter who had fought in wars against Giants. Unfortunately, Professor Binns had a rather…dry voice and he spoke so slowly that waiting for the next word was like agony. For a man who had also had to wait hours on a battlefield just to get healed, the hour and a half class seemed to take forever. By the time it ended, Peter was positive he had aged another seventy years.

The fact that Binns' eyes followed him as he got up to leave the room only made the period that much worse. Right, he was ghost.

Damn it.

"Mr. Pevensie," Wheeze. "A word, if you please." Cough.

Despite the fact that all of the Pevensies had long ago agreed to never pick favorites amongst any of their subjects, the fact remained that you just couldn't love everyone. Inwardly, Peter cringed. Outwardly, he smiled and waved the curious Trio away as if perfectly fine that his professor wanted to speak with him. How he wished Ron hadn't sent him such an apologetic look.

"Yes, professor?" He said calmly, once all of the students had left and were out of earshot.

He shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when the professor floated over to him and bowed low. Peter, getting over the initial shock, inclined his head in acknowledgment and waved his hand for the ghost to rise. Seeing him bow was slightly odd.

"Your Majesty," he began, "it is an honor to see you again."

Loveable: no, likable: yes. "And I you. Is there a reason you wished to speak with me, professor?" He said kindly.

Smiling, the ghost nodded. "Yes, sire. I received a message from Master Gryffindor's portrait. He said that he would love nothing more than to aid Your Majesties in helping the school."

Well, that certainly brightened up Peter's day. Flashing the ghost a pleasant grin, the king said, "Thank you, sir. If I do not see him soon, will you inform him that We appreciate his help?"

"Of course, sire."

"Thank you. Is there anything else you need to tell me?" He gazed questioningly at the 'man.'

"Not at the moment, milord." It may have just been the lighting, but the king could have sworn that the ghost almost looked sad and having nothing else to say.

"Alright, my thanks for the message. I wish you a good day then, professor." Acknowledging the now bowing ghost once more, Peter gathered his supplies and headed out of the room feeling much lighter.

That joy, unfortunately, was soon washed away by the time he reached the dungeons. It was funny to watch the Potions classes with Professor Snape when he wasn't actually in the room with the man, but Peter was very quickly learning that it was not as fun when the man could actually acknowledge your presence. In fact, it was extremely uncomfortable.

The potion of the day was called the Draught of Peace, a brew that the High King felt didn't exactly fit in with the atmosphere in the classroom. After Snape's little spiel on O.W.L.s none of the students were feeling particularly peaceful, Peter least of all. Oh sure, the tests didn't exactly matter to him, but the potion was an entirely different thing. While it would not affect him, the same could not be said for whomever it was that would be testing the draught. With that came a problem.

Most people didn't realize it, but there was a reason Muggles were unable to make potions despite the fact that no wand was necessary. That being the fact that magic was needed. It wasn't just that the ingredients themselves were magical, but that they had the ability to suck magic out of a witch or wizard in just the right amounts to make a certain effect. Since Peter had no magic for the plants to absorb, the ingredients were therefore useless. There was very little residual magic for him to take in and transfer to the items, and even then he would have to measure how much he would need. In the words of one of Edmund's dwarf friends, Peter was deep in enemy territory with only a butter knife.

He stared dismally into his cauldron at the sound of Snape's approach. Looking around, Peter was only vaguely happy that he wouldn't be going down alone.

* * *

After the first minute, Susan was ready to admit that Professor Umbridge was an absolute moron. Once ten minutes rolled by, she had concluded that the woman probably had less magic than she herself did. After a half hour, the queen was no longer able to count the amount of IQ points she had already lost.

Now, Susan had always been the most studious of her siblings. Peter did well in school, but he didn't worry over his grades like she did. Edmund loved to read and learn, but it was more of an experienced learning than an actual sit-down-and-study type of thing. Lucy…well, she read, but honestly the girl was too much of a free spirit to keep tied to a desk. Susan, however, loved school and the smell of worn textbooks. She enjoyed sitting at a desk and learning about things she had never thought of before. Now though, this Umbridge woman was about this close to finding out why Queen Susan of Narnia was known as an expert marksman. _This. Close. _

She didn't realize her quill had snapped in half until Luna was quietly handing her a tissue to wipe the ink off her hand. Nodding in thanks, the girl was relieved to finally have something to take her mind off the horrible woman and her ugly pink cardigan. Seriously, Susan wouldn't have even subjected the White Witch to the torture of wearing that fashion faux pas.

"Miss Pevensie?" The sickening sound of the woman's voice broke through Susan's mind and brought her crashing back down to Earth.

"Yes, Professor?" She managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Is there a problem?" It took all of Susan's will power not to gag at the woman's question. Was there a problem? Yes! But, she wasn't going to say that aloud, oh no.

"No, Professor. No problem." The former queen smiled with the charm that had once served as a warning to suitors.

"Good. Now, as I was saying…" The woman continued on as if nothing had happened, leaving Susan to sigh quietly in relative relief. How she wished that just once she could take a leaf out of Edmund's book and yell at someone just for being stupid. It would probably make this entire situation a whole lot more bearable. But alas, she could not. She would not give her grandfather more grief with this woman. Aslan knew he probably had enough.

"Susan." The girl turned sharply at the sound of her name, not surprised that it was Luna who whispered it. The dreamy girl was looking uncharacteristically alert, but her eyes were not trained on the young queen. Instead, she was turned towards at the front so as to seem like she was listening to the professor, while her eyes were actual gazing over towards one of the paintings.

It was a rather inconspicuous portrait of Tobias Manlethorpe, founding editor of _Witch Weekly_. He appeared to be trying to garner her attention by gazing at her quickly and then looking back up. If not for the fact that he had been doing this during Divinations too, Susan wouldn't have been so annoyed. As it was, he had already told her that Lady Ravenclaw's painting had accepted her role as a spy. The only thing that now saved him from Susan was the fact that she knew he had memory problems.

"Just ignore him, Luna," she sighed, trying to hide her face. Her new friend nodded though as if understanding.

"It's probably just a few Fiddlefinns. They can confuse paintings, you know." She seemed to nod to herself. It made a few of the closer students look at her as if she was insane, but Susan didn't mind. If anything, she enjoyed Luna's quirks. They were refreshing.

So she smiled at her friend and said, "Really? I've never heard of them before."

"Oh, yes," The blonde replied with an absentminded vigor. "They can get into the paint and mess it all up. It's very annoying."

"I see. Poor Tobias." Although Susan knew there were no Fiddlefinns there, she wasn't going to begrudge Luna her beliefs. Besides, Susan had long ago learned not to base things on sight alone.

"Miss Pevensie!" The screeching voice of Professor Umbridge alerted everyone in the room to the two girls. If she were anyone else, she would have blushed.

Sighing, and inwardly groaning, Susan looked up at the woman's red face. "Yes, Professor Umbridge?"

"Is there a reason why you are talking while I am?" She sounded like she was asking a five-year-old with that tone. Susan grit her teeth.

"No, professor, there's no reason." How she hoped her aggravation wasn't showing in her voice.

The sickening smile on the woman's face didn't change though. "You wouldn't want to join your brother in detention now, would you?" The queen looked up in alarm. Peter was in the next class, how-

Susan sighed. _Edmund._ Of course. He couldn't even go one day without antagonizing a teacher. That was just like him.

"No, Professor, I don't." Ooh, Edmund was going to get the talking to of a lifetime once she got a hold of him.

But right now, the queen had to focus on the here and now. "Then I suggest you stop talking." The obnoxious woman said sweetly. Turning to the rest of the class, Umbridge waved her wand and the textbooks on her desk began to move. Susan was appalled by the title.

Judging by the looks of her fellow Ravenclaws, she was not the only one.

"Professor," One of the girls near Susan exclaimed, "this is all theory! How will we know how to use defensive spells?" There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room, but Umbridge quickly squashed them with a look.

Giggling, the woman said, "Why ever would you need to use defensive spells? We are not in a war. You are in no danger." Sweet Aslan, Rabadash had more brain cells before his punishment than this woman did.

"But didn't Harry say that Voldemort has returned?" Luna spoke up, and many people looked at her in alarm. Whether it was because she believed him or because she actually said the dark wizard's name, Susan wasn't quite sure.

Umbridge, however, looked furious. "You shouldn't spread lies, Miss Lovegood. The Dark Lord is not back and I will not have you saying such nonsense in the classroom!" She glowered at the students. "Am I clear?"

"But-"

"If you say one more word, you will be sharing detention with Mr. Pevensie," she screeched/threatened. Susan was almost tempted to say something just to annoy her. Almost.

"Now," Umbridge's voice seemed less sweet and more aggravated, "open your textbooks to page 109 and begin reading. I don't want to hear another word out of any of you." Her cheeks were stained pink as the instructions appeared on the board.

None of the Ravenclaws seemed very enthusiastic about learning.

* * *

Flying lessons, Lucy found, were soon become the bane of her Hogwarts existence. She just couldn't seem to get the broom to stay in the air. Earlier, when everyone was sending magic out to get the brooms into their hands, she had been able to absorb as small amount, just enough to hover. Now that everyone was on their brooms and in the air, no residual magic was being sent out for her to grasp. Even then it probably would have been impossible. There just wouldn't be enough. So, it was a definite relief when Madame Hooch told them that class was over and that they all had to head back inside for their next class. Lucy couldn't have been happier to let go of that broom.

"Wow," said Rose with slight sympathy, "you weren't kidding when you said you didn't fly much, were you?"

The redhead sighed. She had hoped it wasn't that noticeable. "Was it that obvious?"

"Nooo…." Rose's tone said the opposite, but upon seeing Lucy's crestfallen face, she added cheerfully, "But I'm sure you'll get the hang of it soon. Don't worry!"

It did little to help the former queen, but she was thankful that her friend wasn't being mean about it. "Maybe, but I just don't think flying is really my talent. Mother used to say that Susan and I were much better suited for Herbology."

"Really?" Rose asked, her interest piqued. "I'm not that good with plants. I tried to make a garden once, but all the flowers died. I didn't really try it again."

"If you want we could trade some of our talents. I lend you some Herbology skills if you lend me some flying ones," Lucy laughed. Rose quickly joined in, and soon both girls were giggling so hard they almost crashed into another student.

"Whoa!" They heard, quickly ending the laughter. Luckily for them, the student was no stranger. "What's with all the laughing?"

"Peter!" The redhead exclaimed, launching herself at her brother and giving him a hug. Chuckling with surprise, Peter returned it.

"Hello, Lu," he said, "where are you off too on this fine day?"

Giggling into his chest, she replied, "Herbology. Rose and I were wondering if we could trade some talents; my plant skills for her flying skills."

"Ahh…" He nodded in understanding before grinning at the other girl. "And I suppose that this is Rose?"

"Oh, right!" The little girl remembered, suddenly realizing that Peter hadn't met her new friend yet. "Peter, this is Rose Zeller." She gestured her arm to the girl. "Rose, this is my eldest brother Peter."

Peter smiled and gave a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you Rose."

"And you," the younger girl replied, blushing.

Now that the introduction were over with, Lucy turned back to gaze up at her older brother. "So, where are you going?" The question seemed to pose a problem for Peter though, as he turned away and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry, where?" She asked, surprised at her brother's answer.

Sighing, Peter repeated his destination. "Defense Against the Dark Arts." He glared when Lucy snorted. "Oh you laugh now, but just you wait until you have her. According to all the people I've talked to, Umbridge is an absolute beast."

"I'm not surprised." Peter looked down at his sister as she shared a furtive glance with her friend. "I ran into Edmund after first period and he wasn't too please with her."

"Oh," Her older brother said with curiosity, "what did he say?"

Lucy shrugged. "Nothing much, but he had that murderous look on his face and he kept mumbling stuff about idiotic witches and ill-received detentions."

"He got a detention?" Peter pushed his sister away by the shoulders so that he could look at her in the eyes. "On his first day?"

"According to the other Slytherins, yes." It was obvious that Lucy and her friend were amused.

Sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Peter took a deep breath. "Wonderful," he said sarcastically, "Just what I needed to hear."

"I'm sorry." She was. "Maybe she's just not a morning person." The look her brother sent her told her that he wasn't buying it. "Right, sorry."

Peter took a deep breath and decided to focus on it all later. Right now, they had other things to do then discuss Edmund's inability to stay out of trouble. "You know what, it doesn't matter. We'll talk to him later." His tone suggested that it would probably be a one-sided conversation. "We'd best get to class now. I don't want to see the consequences of tardiness." The girls nodded and, giving him one last hug, sped away towards the greenhouses. Peter looked dismally in the direction of his class and sighed. It was going to be a long class period.

* * *

"You got a detention?" The last class of the day had ended not that long ago and while most students were enjoying their dinner, the Pevensies had gotten together to discuss their most recent problem.

Detention. With Umbridge.

"Could you have possibly done any worse on your first day?" Susan held up her hand to stop her younger brother from replying. "Don't answer that!" He closed his mouth. "Honestly, Edmund, why did you have to antagonize her?"

"Oh don't pretend you didn't want to yell at her too," he responded, happy to have gotten something in during his sister's currently twenty-minute long rant.

Gritting her teeth (something she seemed to be doing too much of lately), Susan said, "Of course I did, but that didn't mean I would actually do it. Now she's going to make a target out of us. This is just one more thing she's going to have against us and grandfather."

She took a seat by the window in the room and glowered at him. "Well, what do you have to say?"

Crossing his arms, Edmund's fists tightened around his sleeves. "I say that you didn't hear the things she was spewing out. It was disgusting! And her tone! She sounded just like the Wi-" He cut himself off, but it was too late; they already knew what he was going to say.

She sounded just like The Witch.

"Edmund…"Peter groaned, putting his face in his hands. "You have to stop thinking about that. You can't just yell at every person that reminds you of _her_."

Sighing in defeat, Edmund seemed to droop. "I know that Peter, but…you didn't hear her. What she was saying in class about how everything was alright and that grandfather and Harry were lying…it was horrible."

Softly, her anger dimming, Susan said, "We know Ed, she said the same things to us, but you can't anger her like that. Here, she has power over us."

"Even though she has the magical prowess of a dung beetle," the younger boy murmured under his breath, just loudly enough for all of them to hear.

"Edmund."

"Sorry."

Awkward silence nestled over them, each contemplating what to say next. It was Lucy who eventually found what to say, but she wasn't sure of the other responses so her words were hesitant.

"Umm, Lady Hufflepuff has agreed to aid us. She spends much time in the kitchens and the House Elves are always talking to her." It was a good start in the young queen's opinion. The little creatures were privy to almost everyone's secrets.

Peter, thankful for the words, nodded. "Lord Gryffindor has also agreed. Although, we now have the problem of Professor Binns being a ghost."

"Please tell me you're joking," Edmund groaned. The last time they had seen him, he had been a senile old man.

"I'm afraid not."

"Great." Came the sarcastic reply. "Well, Salazar has agreed also, if a bit begrudgingly."

Arms crossed, Susan turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe if you stopped challenging him to bets that you know he'll lose, he'd be a bit more cooperative."

"Aww, but where's the fun in that?" Susan was not amused, but she let it go, knowing that saying anything more on the matter would be useless.

Turning away from her brother, she said, "Lady Ravenclaw has also agreed, but unless it's an emergency, we'll have to answer a riddle before she gives us any information."

The other three groaned. "Why am I not surprised?" Peter said, slapping his hand over his eyes. "Well, I suppose it's better than nothing."

"I guess," Lucy sighed.

Distantly, they heard the sound of feet, signaling the end of dinner. It was a good thing they had snuck some sandwiches away or they probably would have been starving. The Room of Requirement unfortunately, didn't supply them with food.

"Well, come on. We'd best get going before we're caught." Peter got up to leave, his siblings following. Turning to look at Edmund for a second, he said, "Harry has detention with her too, so at least you won't be alone. He wasn't particularly thrilled with what she had to say either."

"Ha!" The younger boy rounded on his older sister. "See, I'm not the only one who yelled at her."

Unimpressed, Susan said, "Harry is a fifteen-year-old boy with a deranged maniac out for his blood. You are a two-thousand-year-old grandpa being forced to watch from the sidelines." She crossed her arms again. "I think Harry is much more justified in yelling than you are."

"But – but-" She swept past her younger brother with all the grace that she was known for and left the room, a giggling Lucy in tow.

Silence descended for a moment until Peter stole a glance at the boy. "She's right, you know."

_Smack!_

Despite the lump rising on the back of his head, Peter couldn't help but grin.

* * *

_Where is it?_

If anyone were to enter Draco Malfoy's private room, they would find the entire place completely destroyed save for a few spots. Clothes were thrown around haphazardly, books were open on the floor, and his wand was lying forgotten on the shelf. It looked like the room had been hit by a tornado, but that was unfortunately not the case. You see, Draco had lost something – something that definitely was not important to him…at all.

He had lost The Book.

Pansy and Blaise still had theirs', but his was mysteriously absent. It was rather scary actually, because before he never could seem to lose it. The damn thing would always be within grabbing distance, even during school hours and on vacations. For it to suddenly disappear was unsettling, especially because he had seen it earlier sitting on his bed.

Draco didn't like being played with.

It was to this end, that the wizard decided that the book probably was not in his room. Not even bothering to clean up the mess, the blond left his room to search the currently empty common room.

As usual, the area was a light green, made as such from the green fires in the lanterns and fireplace. To many, the room would have seemed cold; stone floors with expensive rugs and black leather couches, but for a Slytherin such as Malfoy it was perfectly comfortable. At least, on a good day.

Despite his mood, Draco knew that tearing apart the common room would be both useless and unbecoming of one such as himself. Maybe for a Weasley it would be all right, but not a Malfoy. He conveniently forgot about the mess in his dorm. Deciding to start with the entrance, the boy padded softly across the room and began to check in the desks nearest to there.

To his dismay, Draco didn't find his book, although he did manage to procure a rather nice pocket watch and a pretty little box tied with a silver ribbon. It as probably meant to be a gift to someone, but if they were stupid enough to leave it there, then who was he to care?

Just when he was about to get up and search his room again though, the wall leading into the common room opened and in walked the grumbling form of Edmund Pevensie. Normally, the Malfoy Heir really wouldn't have cared what a second year was doing, but the younger Pevensie brother was intriguing in all the wrong ways. His eyes were just a little too dark and he was just a bit too closely related to Dumbledore for comfort.

Sadly, he didn't realize he was staring until Edmund brought it to his attention. "Do you need something, or were you just thinking?"

Shaking off the surprise, Draco glared. "No." He checked the watch. "Although, I would like to know what you were doing out so late?" It was satisfying to see the younger boy scowl.

"I have a detention with Umbridge tonight and my siblings wished to talk with me beforehand."

Malfoy smirked. So the rumors were true. "Detention on your first day?" Edmund's scowl deepened. "Tisk tisk. You know, that won't look good for your grandfather or for Slytherin. Best not to let it happen again."

"So I've been told," he grit out. "And what are you doing up? I can't imagine it's just for stealing purposes." He looked pointedly at the pocket watch and the box still in his hands.

Frowning, Draco placed both items into the pockets of his robes. "If you must know, I seem to have misplaced a book and I am trying to find it."

"Ah, I see." The tone was amiable, but Draco got the distinct impression that he was hiding something.

Feeling bold, he said, "You wouldn't have happened to see it would you?"

"No." Came the response. "My only books are the ones from class." Glancing lazily around the room, Edmund's gaze landed on him only briefly. "Well, I'd best get ready for my detention. Don't want to be late after all." With that, the twelve-year-old headed towards his room to change, acting as if nothing had happened.

Draco was not so lucky. He watched as the door closed and listened to the sounds of movement from the dorm. The blond waited a few minutes before slowly returning to his own room. Not even bothering with the mess, he flicked his wand and everything was placed back in its proper spot. Vaguely, he heard the sound Edmund exiting the dungeons.

Placing his wand back in its spot on the nightstand, Draco found himself standing stark still in front of his bed.

There, sitting neatly amongst the sheets, was his Book, the pages opened to Chapter Nine.

_In the Witch's House…

* * *

_

Hey everyone! I'm really sorry about the wait, but I've been busy lately. Curse you Real Life! Anyway, I'll be in England for the next two weeks so I probably won't have much time to work on the next chapter until afterward. But, until then, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next time I hope to have more interaction with the Hogwarts students. Then, I can really get everything moving. Yay!

Please REVIEW, but DON'T FLAME! Thanks!

BYE!

~TimeMage0955


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